Wesker's Desire
by fan-fic-writer-uk
Summary: Wesker has secret feelings for Claire but will he ever be able to confront and come to terms with them? And could it ever last? . Wow...an update. Chapter 13 **Questions with More than Just Answers** is now up!
1. It Begins

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17 (although not until later chapters)  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
Note- This my first fan fic so be gentle....please?  
  
a/n: This story is going to start out really as a rather general, non- explicit fan fic, not derserving the rating nc-17 but if I get a good response then I will continue more chapters and eventually it will become a nc-17 story i.e It will contain those much wanted sex scenes of the nc-17 fan fics. Anyway I've got a lot of ground to cover as a Wesker/Claire fic is a rather hard fic to put together as they don't have much interraction within the game. And unless you do a plain sex fic then it needs a plot. And to be a good fic it needs plot. So I'm sorry if you were looking at this for its rating but you will have to wait a few chapters for the sex and then check back then-....oh and there will be some between them? (prehaps). Thanks, Dan.  
  
Note- This fic is set after the events of RECVX  
  
Chapter One: It Begins  
  
To be in love with the enemy, how could he be?..How could he? He didn't care about love or people did he? Having power was all he now cared about was it?.....Well wasn't it?.  
  
Wesker laughed softly to himself in the darkned room, he wasn't in love was he? Desire was all it was, lust and nothing more, and who wouldn't feel it. Claire was beautiful she was everything a man could ever want: Bright, funny, intelligent, charasmatic, beautiful..... lovable? What man could resist her? she was an enchantress. It was desire not love that racked his body.. it couldn't be it just couldn't. It was the same desire, not love, that he had felt when Chris had first shown her picture to him, back when they were on the S.T.A.R.S team. He had gazed at her face, her smile in that picture, her eyes seeing further into his than anyone, before or since, had ever done. The picture overwhelmed him creating and stirring up emotions that had never before even touched him.... God she was pretty....  
  
Wesker shook his head violently to emerge himself from that day dream. A tyrant didn't have deep emotions or feelings, only those neccessary to survive; pain, hate and desire-the desire to kill the hate to carry it out with and the physical pain to know when to start running. A Tyrants emotion level in any other area was a mere 0.005% of that of humans. A tyrant didn't feel, it exsisted. Emotions were for the weak, the inferiors that needed them, a tyrant had power, emotions were obselete. But still the thoughts were still there...and why did he have to question ever statement he made denying his feelings?  
  
Wesker again shook himself from his thoughts. He hurriedly sat up in the army style bed. He needed to get his minds off things. Anyway he had things to do. His boss had told him to be ready for the attack at the Russian base and more importantly to be successful in stopping it. His boss had not told him who would attack ony it would be a small experienced group, so he had little advantage as he knew nothing of their stats, physical, mental or otherwise. Or indeed how experienced they were. The only reason they knew anything about their coming was due to the spy within their group, for it was the spy that had tipped the boss off that they would be coming. Well Wesker reflected thoughtfuly, that ruled out those do gooders. They were all as rightous as a vicar, although he secretly hoped otherwise. He quickly pulled the covers off the bed brazing the seemingly sub-zero air of the room/ice box ( before remembering that he was a tyrant, he didn't feel the cold or rather he shouldn't be feeling it).....he had work to do.  
  
***  
  
"oohhhhh" Claire groaned and sighed sleepily as she tried to get comfortable in the cheap (although Chris had called them bargin) airline ecconomy class seats. Why didn't being a good guy pay? And why did nobody in the group have any money. The money Carlos had saved from his previous mercenary jobs was fast drying up and Chris was such a thrifty spender that Umberlla would have to have taken over half of Europe before he'd buy one round of ammo. Save it for an emergency is what he always told Claire, but that wasn't helping her to get comfortable now was it?  
  
Claire gave up trying to get back to sleep and instead decided to inspect the group who were all doted around the small plane. They (meaning Chris) had decided the best tactic was to seem like perfect strangers to one and another as it was a pretty remote part of Russia they were travelling to and the last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves and allow Umbrella to get wind of them coming.  
  
Firstl there was Chris, cool, calm and efficent, sitting four rows in front of her quietly reading, and she noticed, completely alert even after their thirty hour day. She knew he could feel her watching him, he always could. Slowly she turned to face Leon who at the moment , for a cop, was a complete embarrassment. He had his face smeared up against the window with his mouth hanging open -not one of his more attractive moments, whilst a kid whose gameboy had stopped working quickly made off with his walkmans baterries, hardly up for officer of the year award. Rebecca was also sleeping but unlike Leon did it with all the grace of a model. Face muscles relaxed, lips poised she attracted a few sneaky glances from some of the younger male passangers of the flight. One man caught Claires' eye as he turned to glance at her and quickly turned away blushing as he quickly realised another person was watching him. Finaly Claire turned to look at Carlos and Jill the only two of the group that were allowed to talk to each other, under the pretendance of being a couple. They were both quietly talking and quite obviously to Claire, Carlos was very comfortable about being Jills boyfriend.  
  
Claire was awoken from her musings as the captains voice interrupted her thoughts. In broken English he told them " This is your captain....I will begin landing the airplane. Time is 3:04.... have a nice day" He repeated the announcement, in from what Claire could tell, just as bad Russian. The plane began its descent as Claire began fastening her seatbelt, ready for it all to begin again......  
  
***  
  
Far away from both the Russian facility and the plane but drawing closer to both, a voice could just be heard. Madly it whispered hysterically "You thought you could beat me didn't you well I will punish you, you've all been very bad and bad people must be punished". The figures lips drew themselves into a thin, cold, calculating smile. "Let the games begin" it spat, with all traces of the hysteria completely replaced by malice and hate.  
  
The figure slowly turned and whispered to the air "And this time I will be victorious".....  
  
***  
  
Well thats it for now all I can ask is can you please read and review my fic so far and hopefully if there is a good all round response I will continue to write further chapters. Also if you feel like inputting you can try to help me by suggesting firstly who you would like to see as the spy of the group and secondly if there is anyone else other than obviously one of the Ashfords that you would like to see as the boss/ mysterious figure (although I already have plans on who both will I am open to persuasion). Comment and constructive criticism welcome, thanks again, Dan. 


	2. In the Middle of Nowhere

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Rather suprisingly I got some reviews for this story and miraculously they were very positive so I'm going to continue it. All I can say is thanks for the reviews as they have inspired me to continue...... so thanks and gratitudes I guess are in order.  
  
Chapter two: In the Middle of Nowhere  
  
***  
  
I hate them all, I despise him, I know that for sure...but I desire her.....Why?...Why?...WHY?  
  
***  
  
The airport was little more than a runway and a building on the outskirts of the snow covered town. Like the rest of the town it was old, rundown and desolate. Claire smiled wryly, where else would you hope to find Umbrella? The hotel, the only hotel in a 60 mile area, was however a completely different story. Luxury was the only word that came to mind. No expense had been spared and it clearly showed. Whatever little doubt was in any member of the groups minds vanished....something was definetly going on here. How else would this hotel keep a float? The town was hardly the New York of Russia.The only shortcomings the hotel had was in staff. But again Claire reflected, good staff are hard to find. Especially when you regularly have to dispose of them.  
  
On checking in all of the group used fake alises, "no point in taking risks" Chris had previously remarked, "we're probably on file, we should feel honoured really". On entering the room it was all Claire could do from falling asleep right there and then. But she had to check her room (in case it had been bugged which was more than likely) whilst unpacking. At first glance it appeared there was nothing within the room out of the ordinary and indeed there were no obvious additions to the room. And before long the need for sleep overcame her. Sleepily Claire decided that she would make a full inspection in the morning. It was while she was drifting off to sleep she noticed the red flashes imitting a small amount of light over head. Quickly she turned to see that it was just the rooms two smoke detectors keeping watch above. Slowly she settled down to sleep...then it struck her. Why would any single hotel room nedd TWO smoke detectors? Oh Umbrlla had been rather sly by being so obvious. One was real the other was a fake, either with a camera or tape within it. Great, bloody great this was all she needed, there would be no chance to talk to anybody else until tommorrow night when Operation Genesis began (nicknamed by Chris as it was their first srikeback at Umbrella). Slowly she settled down to sleep.  
  
***  
  
Claire was not the only person awake that night/morning thinking about the upcoming events. Wesker was very quietly inputting codes into the computer system of the underground base eager for it all to begin. All this waiting around gave him time to think, to question, something he had become ver uncomfortable in doing as of late. Action was what he needed, what he lived for. The only reason he did question he admitted to himself was because he was an inferior model, Alexia had been proof of that for sure. And also his emotions were returning, for the first time in months he felt. Was it just a phase? was it a defect within him? or was he regressing...was it wearing off. "No" he muttered trying to convince himself, he mustn't think that, "it's a phase, just a phase" he repeated. Too much time alone without any action. Keeping his mind to the mission he reflected ironicly, that all of the research staff and members of the base did not know he was here, and now to serve Umbrella he must begin by destroying it.  
  
The group cannot be allowed to jepordise the security of this facility, he had been told, so it must be destroyed by the time they arrive and all neccessary and moveable research, weapons and staff gotten out of here. "No easy task" he remarked to no-one in particular.  
  
"True but I have faith in you Albert" purred a cultured voice behind him, Wesker tried not to jump (another human trait he thought bitterly),"After all you survived up until now, despite your mistakes and personal involvement within our operations" Wesker allowed himself to grimice slightly as he heard his first name spoken, something he had learned to live without. After all first names were just another weakness of the human race, a ploy to make them friendly with each other, to make them soft. And, Wesker firmly believed, the soft must die as the strong live on, its natures way after all and it accounted for how come he was still alive after so much.  
  
"The only personal involvement I've had in any of my missions is to succeed" Wesker spat back.  
  
"Is that what you tell Chris Redfield" The figure retorted. A small smile playing upon blood red lips "Or even his sister Claire"?  
  
Wesker lost his cool composture for a moment "How....?" he began  
  
"A fine specimen too, after all she evaded me on more than one occasion, very worthy, very worthy. Too bad about her blood, common, a shame really". The figure continued "Oh and as for how I knew. Your blood is mine, mine is yours, we share the same variation within our genes, I know how you work".  
  
"The virus you means" Wesker interrupted  
  
"Variation" The figure repeated "An improvement, a virus after all is a pathogen, it gives rise to suffering. Are you suffering Albert?,...Would you like to go back to being the weak man Albert?,...The way you were Albert?.....I thought not" the figure patronised playing with a loose strand of blonde hair.  
  
"If I reply who do I address? Alexia or Alfred" Wesker allowed himself a sarcastic smile. He soon paid for it.  
  
"How dare you, you common, gutter born, whore house bred, Bastard", the blonde screamed, emotions for the first time showing, "How dare you decresicrimate my sisters name by speaking it upon your unclean lips...BASTARD"  
  
"Says the man who hired me to kill her"  
  
"I never once said to kill her, I would never ever do that, I couldn't. I only wanted her restrained, and a sample of her DNA"  
  
"Why employ me to do it then?" Wesker questioned  
  
"My sister would have killed me, had she found out I had failed her, I couldn't let that happen, I needed time to complete our,...her plan"  
  
"And now instead she is the one dead, how ironic"  
  
"You know that is only temperary", Alfred Ashford cried, "The injuries she sustained were far worse than mine. Her body.. her perfect little body, will need time to rejouvinate and repair itself. And until then I must restore our glourious name and prove myself to her, I must not fail her again, never again....This conversation is over", he cried abrutly.  
  
  
  
Alfred turned to leave before slowly turning back "The Redfields will pay for this, mark my word, they will pay. For what they have done to my family death would a kind mistress...As I said its a shame for Claire, she after all puts me in the mind or Alexia, strong, powerful, intelligent beautiful and deadly. And it's an even greater shame for you after all you will be the one to pull the trigger on her, the one to kill her tommorow night...didn't I say? she's part of the group due to attack tommorrow...as I say I'm sorry. It's a real shame,...a real shame..."  
  
With that he turned to leave, his footsteps echoing around the large room....the only sound within room.  
  
"Claire...."  
  
***  
  
a/n Well thats it for chapter two. I hope it was intresting. Not much on the Wesker/Claire thing until right at the end but I hope that the build up was good. As for Alfred Ashford being revealed, it was always going to be him or Alexia as the mysterious figure and I guess the review I got just tipped the balance. Suggestions, comments, etc wlcome. Until chapter 3 then,  
  
Dan 


	3. Where Loyalties lie

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Thanks again for the wonderful reviews, it appears the stories a small success, they're keeping me writting this story. I'm really not sure when C/W are going to explore their more physical sides (for real) but hopefuly either in this chapter or the next they will have some interraction between each other. But then again theres no need to rush What else can I say other than keep reading and reviewing pleae guys  
  
Chapter Three: Where Loyalties Lie  
  
***  
  
...He began by laying lightly speckled kisses upon her breast..gently never wanting to hurt her, wanting to tease her, to pleasue her, now and forever...God he'd wanted this, for so long and so much and now all he was living for was the moment, this moment with her. He felt her hand..her beautiful hand....reach slightly for his chin, cupping it softly. She pulled gently but firmly bringing his chin up to look directly at her face, to meet her eyes. She then gently reached behind his head, and slowly brought his lips to hers. As their lips met in the middle, the kiss soft, sweet and passionate, their tounges began dancing a duel, each determined and passion fueled, ever only giving in willingly to the others demands. As he kissed her and her him he gazed deeply into her eyes...blue, azure eyes, and he realised, lust glazed and love filled for him. God he loved her.  
  
It was then the bullet ran home and struck her, causing her to stiffen mid kiss. A shot rang out within the darkened room and all Albert Wesker could see from then on before him was Claires' red blood flowing over him as she fell limp to the ground...and Alfred, a gun in hand, a smile upon his face looking at the scene infront of him. And all he could hear was the laughter, cold, cruel, insane laughter, mocking him,....for his weakness, his mistake...  
  
With a start Wesker woke up, heart racing and sweat drenched within the large draughty room. He instincively began looking around the room for her, for Claire before the light of the situation came to him. "Just a dream....just a dream" he whispered to the room in between pants, trying to comfort himself, to calm himself. Very slowly he got up off the pile of matresses that had formed his bed in the disused room. Dizzily he tried to steady himself and focus his eyes. Now wide awake he reflected that sleep was no longer an option open to him,...he needed a walk, he needed air, he needed to think...and to choose..  
  
The outside of the facility was bathed in pale sunlight, although Wesker failed to notice this whilst he walked around the perimeter, lost in his trail of thought. He knew the decisions he would soon have to make would be the deciding fact in his fate. It was either Umbrella, the company he had sold his soul to, or her, a person who held nothing practicaly advantegous to him, a person he had come to love. If he chose Umbrella he would continue to work for those two fools until a time came when he became useless to them, although he hoped by that time to be in a much more....managerial position, within the corperation. However if he followed his thoughts (feelings?) he could lose everything. His status, his power, his hopes and dreams reduced to nothing all for the sake of her love or rejection, of her approval or disapproval, of her feelings towards him ."It's just isn't worth it", he quietly told himself, "One girl is not worth the upheaval of all of my plans, of all my dreams"...There he told himself, he'd decided, Claire Redfield would die tonight as ordered and this would all be over finally, it was what he wanted after all....wasn't it?.  
  
***  
  
The day at the hotel had been uneventful to say the least, Claire reflected, however it had been rather hard on them all due to the facarde they all had to keep up and the worry each had of being caught. None of the group had risen from bed for brekfast, which had been at 6 (only hours after they checked into the hotel). As nightfall approached and the evening meal was being cooked Claire decided that she had to put in at least one appearance so as not to draw attention to herself. With a sigh she rolled off the double bed upon which she'd been stationed for most of most of the day and began to get ready for the meal.  
  
The dinning hall Claire noticed as she entered it, like the rest of the hotel, was....expensive. Lavishly decorated, with art paintings and sculptures spread throughout it. The chairs were seated around a large antique oak table in the centre of the room/museum, in order to give the room the 'Ye old English' feel to it. By the time Claire had checked out around the room and looked fleetingly at the art works of it the dinner bell had been sounded, and she was being ushered into a seat by a rather plump midle aged blonde women. The lady, Claire noticed, looked rather homely and friendly on the surface but, her eyes, cold and distant, seemed to betray the permenant smile she wore on her face. Claire also realised as she sat down that the hotel appeared to be family run (or rather claimed to be) which explained why it lacked the staff, or rather gave an excuse for it.  
  
The meal itself was of course like everything else of an extremely high quality. Each of the other members of the group had arrived and been seated by the time it was served up. There were about eight other 'regular' guests seated, Claire discovered as she looked around the table, and thankfully none took an intrest in striking up a conversation with her. The owner of the hotel, a 50 something year old, spent most of the meal time informing the other guests of the history of both the hotel and the area, so there were few silent moments when the guests were left to talk to each other. This was another blessing for the group as it meant thaat none of them had much time to talk amongst themselves, something they had all been worried to a certain degree about any conversation they did have with each other incse it seem fake and false to the other guests and that inturn incase they were discovered.  
  
Once the agonising affair of the meal was over Claire made a hurried dash for her room as quickly as possible, eager to get out of it all. However there was little time to relax as by eleven that night she was due to meet at the groups rendevous point within the town square for the start of operation Genesis. The only problem she had now was the bugging of the room but the group had alrady planned for this. It had been decided that if the rooms were indeed bugged as expected then they were to continue as normal "We're going to be found out sooner or later" Chris had informed the group "Who cares as long as we're a hell of a long way out of there when it does happen?"  
  
As eleven o'clock drew close Claire couldn't help but pace up and down the room. Waiting was something she was ever good at, even in childhood. Whilst looking out her rooms window she noticed both Jill and Carlos leave the hotel hand in hand. As prearranged they left the hotel first, although the show of affection had obviously not been in the plans. Up next were supposed to be Leon and Rebecca. Looking at her watch Claire noticed they were late..rather typical of them. Finally after about a quarter of an hour they emerged from the hotel, not quite pulling the whole thing off as comfortably as Jill and Carlos had done. This is it, Claire told herself anxiously, up next were her and Chris. She watched the clock hands of her watch move slowly, each second dragging on for an eternity, waiting for it all to begin. Finally the five minute waiting in between period was up. "Here goes" she mouthed to herself as she slowly closed her hotel door behind herself and she slowly walked down the halls lobby stairs to meet Chris and begin it all finally.  
  
***  
  
Within the Umbrella facility another soul was considering the upcoming events. Alfred Ashford was needlessly finalising his plan to the lifeless Alexia as he still felt an obligation to inform her alive or dead. "Dead to the world now my darling, but only for now" he told her in soothing tones. After finishing his speech to her he once again carefully inspected the scene in front of him.  
  
Alexia was incased within a chamber, a clear fluid coating her up until her throat, herself seemingly asleep. He gazed at her face lovingingly, her face restored to its former glory. The restorement of Alexias' physical appearance had been on of the quickest results of the varriation/virus, it was however the process of bringing her back to the land of the living that was proving to be the more difficult task. The repairing of the cells of her body had been easy, despite the rupturing they'd sufered at the stand off between her and Chris Redfield. The problem was in her brain within the proccess of stimulating it back into function. However soon the varriation would overcome this setback, he told himself, and she would be restored to her former self and again she would be mistress of the family...his family. "They will pay my dear, my sweet dear", he reassured her, "They will pay for the harm they have caused to you...and to me". He placed a hand protectively to the glass, his voice dropping to a whisper, "My allegiance is only to you. I will not fail you, my sweet,... ever again.. you have my word"  
  
***  
  
Not so far away a tormented mind was also hurriedly deciding which side it was really on and inturn deciding the fate of many. "Who do I follow?", it screamed to itself, begging for an answer, "I've become far too involved with them...How could I let this happen?..Why?". Will I be able to let them die?, it asked,...Will I be able to take them to their deaths without once forewarning them? Can I do that? Who do I choose? Them, people eho trust me with all their hearts and souls?...or my people that need me in their hour of crisis?  
  
***  
  
a/n Well thats it for another chapter, a bit slow I think but I'm getting there. Please keeping reviewing my story as it really is a lifeline for it. Thanks once again and as usuall comments,etc welcome,  
  
Dan  
  
P.S I have recently changed my story settings so that anonymous readers can also review, so if you tried before to submit a review anonumously before and it wasn't accepted please review..I'd love to hear what you have to say. 


	4. The Mystery of Love and Hate

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Well once again its update time so here's chapter four. I'm actualy rather suprised so many people are intrested in this fic especially since its my first, but then again I'm not complaining. So far I've got an idea of chapter five (the mole of the group is going to be unveilved) and even some ideas for my last chapter when I reach it (God knows when). However I need some direction inbetween all that so if you feel you have any ideas or pointers Please, Please inform me in the reviews section. What else can I ask other than please keep reading?  
  
Chapter four: The Mystery of Love and Hate  
  
***  
  
Unsuprisingly the small Russian town had little reason to operate after sunset so there was nobody upon its streets to observe as the group made their way through the darkened roads and onto the outskirts of the town. The base itelf was located about five miles from the town. Umbrella rather suprisingly had not hidden the fact the base was there and so they had no difficulty in locating it, it had even been on a map of the local area, a blatently confident attitude. However its true intentions had been clouded in mystery under the ambiguous title of research facility. Prehaps they hoped by being so obvious they would be able to fool people, and it appeared to have worked so far. Claire wondered exactly how many people actually knew the real purpose of the base. "Not many that are still alive" she thought wryly.  
  
The walk from the meeting point had been realatively silent and the atmosphere had been sombre, everybody had been to tense and lost in thought (one person in particular) in regards to the upcoming events to talk much. Apart from the usual greetings and acknowledgements not much else was had been said since they had begun to make their way out of the town.  
  
Whilst walking upon the beaten snow track Claire couldn't help but reflect on her brother Chris's place within the team as she watched him lead the group. The unofficial leader of the team, it was Chris who planned tactics and made most of the decisions within it. It had even been his idea to to attack this base. Claire silently wondered why Chris was so personally involved with the case, after all his determination for justice against the Umbrella corperation never seemed to falter, not once. There had been moments when she knew she had been all but ready to give up on their resistance and she believed everyone in the team had felt this feeling at least once, but not Chris. She had always firmly believed that it was due to his anger and hurt that he felt inside, and prehaps even guilt, that kept him going. All of these feeling she knew was aimed primarily at Wesker (the 'bent' team leader Chris had faithfully followed) for the doomed mission he'd led into the Umbrella mansion back in Racoon city, or rather back in what was once Racoon city. The suicide mission he'd led both the STARS Alpha, and indirectly the, Bravo teams on, was something Chris could never, never forgive him for, and how could he? They were his collegues and his friends after all. To have someone you trust and respect to lead you and others to your deaths knowingly and deliberately, it was something far too evil to forgive. She knew Rebecca felt the same but somehow her feelings were less intense than Chris's. "Why?" she silently wondered "Why was Chris so different?".  
  
Thinking of him also caused Claire to reflect fleetingly on Wesker, Albert Wesker, the man who had been prepared to sacrifice countless peoples lives to Umbrella just for his own sense of twisted power. She herself had first met him on Rockfort island, the once home of the aristocratic Ashfords, Cross dressing Alfred and the psychotic, all powerful Alexia (combien that with their seemingly incestious relationship and your half way to a Jerry Springer, show she thought ironicly)  
  
(a/n you can just imagine it:(title) 'I'm a psychopath, hell bent on world domination who also fancies beding my cross dressing brother'...um anyway back to the subject in hand).  
  
Also upon the island had been their secret prision facility to which Claire had been sent to because she had been deemed a threat by Umbrella. Of course she had heard her brother talk of him, even seen a picture of him before his great betrayal, however it had still taken her time to reconise him when they met. Within the picture despite his black glasses, that hid all body language and made facial expression hard to judge, he'd still looked so....so alive and human. Not the animal he'd been reduced to, and after all wasn't that what a tyrant was, an animal, nothing more? He'd also seemed so pale and defeated, depite the little show he'd put on for her. And that was exactly how he'd behaved when they'd met, like an animal. Indeed being a Redfield really hadn't helped matters. He'd even tried to kill her, would most likely have done so if that important call hadn't come through for hime. Despite this she had suprised herself for discovering she didn't actualy hate him, at least not like her brother did. Of course she despised him for the pain and grief he'd caused her brother, but she couldn't bring herself to completely hate him. Instead she felt pity more than anything, although she had no idea why. She should hate him deeply for what he'd done to her and Chris she told herself, and in part she did, but not completely. For whenever she pictured his face in her mind all she could conjoure up were feelings of pitty, as she had always felt as if something deep and dark in his past had led him down this path of destruction and for that reason she didn't hate him.....But why did she feel this way?...  
  
"We're here", Chris growlingly remarked, interrupting Claires trail of thought as he spoke, "..finally". For the first time she noticed that the facility was indeed layed out in front of them. Carefully she inspected the sight before her. The base on the surface appeared to be a normal reaserch station, but Claire knew from experience, Umbrella were great at cover ups. "I guess it begins Chris", she remarked to her elder sibling. "Yeah", he quietly remarked, "Operation Genesis finally begins"  
  
***  
  
Within the specially adapted tratment room of the facility Alfred Ashford was once again with Alexia. "They're here pet", he informed her, "And so is he...Chris Redfield". He then began singing to her a lullaby from their childhood while deep in thought, something he did often. He reflected on how in so many was it (the lullaby) was as inoccent as Alexia, and indeed himself, but in so many ways they were so different. Were they really inoccents or not, he asked himself? Childlike they both were, but they both knew exactly what they did and the consequences of their actions.  
  
Slowly he pressed his hand to the warm glass suddenly feeling needy and trying to be as close to Alexia as possible. "Don't you worry my dear sweet Alexia" he said consolingly "He'll pay the price the most for what he has done to you" he cried voice choked with emotion as he let the tears run down his face. "All of their deaths will be slow and painful but his will be the longest..and the worst. I will save him for you to punish as you wish but first of all I will crush him...by making him watch the others die in front of him". He let out a small girlish laugh "Guns and weapons may kill him, but it would be too quick and to pain free. Nothing compares to having your sister die right in front of you", he paused to think "I believe I will make it a shot to the head, directly on her forehead. And then my dear after watching his friends die much more slowly he will ready for you, his spirit crushed". He gazed at her before continuing "You always wanted s puppy Alexia and now you shall have one. He will be your plaything to punish as you see fit". Once again he laughed but this time it was cold and cruel nothing like his previous outburst. "Until later my sweet" he said turning to leave the room.  
  
And then with that, the battle began.  
  
***  
  
a/n Well that was chapter 4 guys. A bit slow again I think but the plot needs to thicken before the action begins. Once again I will ask for you to review my story...I need your ideas.  
  
Thanks again,  
  
Dan 


	5. Betrayal Of The Heart

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Finally I'm into double figures!!! I say that but the fic hasn't even been up a week. Thanks guys is all I can say!! And the reviews themselves are just flattering. 'Elusive plot', 'just continue', I'm really not worth such comments. I, nor my ego, am not going to complain however. Thanks specifically to those who have reviewed my story as it is you who keep me going, and to those of you who haven't reviewed yet, please do as it really helps me to know just exactly how many people are reading my work. Thanks!  
  
Chapter Five: Betrayal Of The Heart  
  
***  
  
The group knew that something was definetly wrong as soon as they drew close to the main building of the Umbrella establishment. "No guards", Chris remarked cautiously, "Somethings up". Indeed as soon as they made their way carefully through the main doors of the facility all they were met with was the overpowering sound of eerie silence (as silence can speak volumes to a person). They stepped into what appeared to be the main reception area. Brightly lit it was also curiously covered in a fine layer of dust. "Chris, I don't think we should split up until we set up a safe room" Jill said seeking his approval. "Yeah" he answer nodding, "We best check out this room first though" he added.  
  
Each of them then began to vigourously inspect the room, looking for clues, and it wasn't long before something, or rather someone, was discovered. "Er guys" Rebecca called quietly behind the reception counter, "You should really see this". Claire was nearest and was first to reach Rebecca, however as soon as she did she began to wish she hadn't. Once again she felt the familiar feeling of her stomach lurching. Staring back at her with lifeless glazed over eyes was a blonde woman, probably a receptionist. The woman was approximatly 20 something, Claire automaticly calculated, and she realised with renewed familiar horror, her death had been due to the horrific injuries she had sustained. Her body had been slashed by what appeared to be claw marks and her neck snapped. "What is it?" Chris asked with excitement as he came running behind them. He stopped short as he inspected the scene in front of him and realisation dawned, "Oh God...not again" he muttered.  
  
Rebecca recovering first, knelt down to preform a closer examination of the body, as the rest of the group watched. Formerly being a medical officer for the STARS department, she had aquired limited morticianary skills both in her training and largely as a result of the mansion incident. "She could have been killed any time in the last 24 hours, due to the state of the blood and her body", Rebecca remarked grimly, "However my personal opinion is that it is likely to have been in the last 12 hours, possibly 8 or 9 at least, I can't make a more accurate evaluation without the help of forensics". She took a moment to breathe and to try and stop the emotion bubling inside of her. Then she continued, medical training taking over "The slash marks on her torso of course suggests an animals claw. It also appears that it was disturbed before it could begin its digestion of her". Again she stopped emotion returning to her voice "..I think we're dealing with a hunter guys"  
  
***  
  
Elsewhere Alfred Ashford was observing the happenings on surveilliance screens. "Well Albert what do you think?" he asked questioningly.  
  
"About what? and don't call me that" Wesker replied, trying to look as cool and composed as he possibly could, at least while she was nearby.  
  
"Firstly I'll call you what I like, I'm the boss. And secondly I was talking about Miss Redfield, doesn't she look pretty tonight?" the blonde answered with a smirk.  
  
"Don't Fuck with me Ashford" Wesker snapped, once again losing his cool.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. We can tell you were alley born and bred can't we?, and I was rather hoping we would be on a first name basis by now Albert." Alfred answered, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice. Wesker merely said nothing, he couldn't be bothered to raise an argument. He couldn't think properly either...not with her around. He felt familiar feelings coming back inside, but willed himself to ignore them, for them to subside. But he couldn't help but look at the screen, watching her face as she moved, studying its features as emotions played upon it.  
  
"Idiots", Alfred remarked, apparently losing intrest with toying with Wesker. "You would think that at least one of them would notice would you not? No indication of a struggle, no trail of blood, you would think they would at least put two and two together". He paused before continuing, "And to think, they have survived up until now, how embarrassing. They also have yet to find my present for them either... truely terrible" He then added, his voice filled with boredom "Disappointing to say the least". "Well", he sighed ,"I suppose all we can do is wait for them to catch up with us now Albert"  
  
***  
  
It was at that point that Claire, who was closest to the body, noticed the blood cacked letter pretrouding from the womans left pocket. Instinctively she reached out for it and grasped it, feeling an object also that was wrapped inside of it. "What is it Claire" Chris asked his attention brought back from gazing around the room by the sound his sister was making. "Oh my" Claire said, ignoring here brothers question firstly, her face screwed up slightly in disgust, "It's written in blood". Then realising her brothers request she answered "I think...I think its a memo or a letter, and a key" as she for the first time noticed the small silver key shining as she unfolded the letter completely. Without any prompting from the group she immediately began reading from it,  
  
"To whoever finds my body,  
  
If you are reading this  
  
then I am almost certianly dead. I really don't know what happened, firstly an emergancy warning light came on and than that animal jumped me. It happened so fast. It just ran at me with those dagger claws and punctured my skin like I was a paper bag. Then it was distracted and left me, although I wish it had not. Now I have been left here to die slowly and painfully, but that is not your concern. The key I have enclosed is the armory key. If you are looking for any survivors or you want to have any chance against these beasts you must go there.  
  
A.A"  
  
The group were silent for a moment with only Leon remarking "That poor, poor woman". Chris sensed, not for the first time sensed that the group needed leadership. Pushing his own emotions to the side as had become expected of him he began organising them. "Well the armory seems our safest bet, we best go" he paused to look at the map on the wall before adding "It's directly along this corridor along with a control room" The rest of the group silently nodded. They cautiously exited the room with all but one member blissfully unaware of what they were about to be drawn into.  
  
Each with a handgun at the ready made their way uneventfully down the corridor, each any moment expecting a zombie to jump them. Finally the small group reached the end of the colossal corridor, relieved and tense. "Here we go" Chris said as Claire passed him the key she was still holding tightly, "Be ready" he added. The door swung open rather smoothly as if recently used. It opened onto a small corridor like room with a single door at the end. All of the group breathed a small sigh of relief a they saw the empty room. However this was not to last. As the group piled into the room and the door shut behind them, an electonic noise loudly sounded as the door was remotely locked. "What the Hell?" Chris remarked, as each person turned to the door. Hurriedly and anxiously he tried the door, practically ripping at the door handle in is haste to get out...no such luck. He continued for a while, willing and hoping, but to no avail. With a shrug an a defeated sigh all he do was say "I guess all we can do now is go on" Slowly he walked over the room to the far door, which opened smoothly as he pulled the handle.  
  
The door opened into a darkend room with a large computer screen providing the rooms light. Dotted around the room were several panels apparently controling different parts of the base. Quickly and cautiously each member followed Chris as he made his way to the main computer. It was then they realised that they weren't alone.  
  
Behind each of them a familiar voice to at least some of the groups members mockingly cried out "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Chris Redfield and his mottly crew of do gooders. Chris turned towards the voice already knowing who it belong to. "Wesker what the hell are you doing here", he question angrily and anxiously.  
  
"What no hello? No how have you been Wesker? Chris you have no idea how this pains me...and I thought we were friends" Wesker said feinging hurt  
  
"We never were friends. I'd never befiend a bastard like you. Why the hell are you he-" Chris was interrupted as another person emerged from within the shadows "Mister Redfield", it purred, "I do believe that Alberts presence here is just the tip of the suprises that are to be in store for you". He paused thinking "But first thing is first. I must really congratlate you, agent Oliveira for your successful mission in bringing these troublesome pests to me".  
  
Each member of the group hurriedly looked back at the man standing behind them "Carlos?" Jill quietly demanded "What is he talking about?"  
  
***  
  
a/n Well thats chapter 5 down. Okay input time here people. In later chapters I'm going to separate groups of characters up independant of others (don't ask me how)i.e Claire and Wesker will be flung together and be separate from the rest. However I could do with help in regards to the remaining characters. Help me by telling me who they should be paired up with. This I believe will be advantagous to the story really in two ways. Firstly it will help bring C/W closer together and build a relationship for them. Secondly it allows me to concentrate on specific characters who, up until now, haven't really had much to say in the story (as its a bit hard to share diologue out between 8 people and expect it to go anywhere). This isn't going to happen for another chapter at least so I'm giving you people time to think it over. So if you have any ideas on who would be best to put together please put it in the review section.  
  
Dan 


	6. The Truth Amongst The Lies

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Well here's another chapter. This ones a bit more hard hitting as Jill, to quote from Re 3's manual, explores her 'healthy emotional side'. Hope you enjoy it, and read...blahblah...review..blahblah and, unless you trust my judgement, tell me who I should pair up after the 'separation. I have also relised this might be a time to kill some characters but I really don't want to unless of course everyone else wants somebody killed.  
  
Chapter Six: The truth amongst the lies  
  
"Carlos, what is he talking about" Jill repeated, however this time the anger was evident from her face, and her rising voice.  
  
"Carlos, tell me", she questioned, trying to contol the anger clearly visable, "Is it true or not?".  
  
The South-Americian merely stared at the ground, unable to match Jills' gaze. He could feel the tears begin as his voice broke into a barely audiable "...yes...".  
  
With one swift catlike movement she was on top of him, at a speed that suprised everyone. "YOU BASTARD, YOU FUCKING, SHITTING BASTARD. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS, YOU FUCKING BASTARD?" She yelled and screamed at him, not caring who heard or even if she made sense. Her blows were strong and anger filled, and Carlos didn't even try to stop her as she struck out at him, neither would he have been able to, her anger gave her a new strength. Her blows were not merely slaps and scratches either. Oh no, Jill struck out with all her physical might and Carlos was bloodied, bruised and battered by the time Chris and Leon had the sense to pull her off of him. Even then it took the combiened strength of the two, and Jills state of exhaustion to pry her off of him.  
  
While the whole episode was going on before him, Alfred Ashford merely watched with a smile, as if the whole thing was a soap opera for his enjoyment. When at last he did speak his voice was full of laughter "I do suggest Miss Valentine, is it not?, that you allow me to explain Mr Oliveiras involvement with Umbrella".  
  
"NO", Jill screeched, her voice cold and icy, "I want him to do it, he's the betrayer, he can also be the one to explain why...or can't he face up to it?"  
  
"Please Jill", Carlos begged, tears falling onto the metal floor, "Don't make me"  
  
"Why not?" Jill sneered, all remorse for him gone for the time being, her anger was to great, "Don't hold back, don't have any guilt on my account. Quiet clearly you had a reason for doing this to me, to us, to us all. The least you can do is be a man and explain why". As he heard her speak, Carlos once again began to break down, fresh hot tears stinging his eyes, he couldn't face her, he just couldn't.  
  
"I really think then you should explain" Jill said, nodding indication at Alfred, "I need to know exactly why this bastard betrayed me, betrayed all of us, as it's obvious he can't tell us himself".  
  
"Very well" Alfred said, a smug smile on his lips, "If you insist".  
  
"About a year ago this man joined one of our more..legitimate branches in Southern Mexico. I understand he did so to aquire some of our other, more minor, biological weapons for his own intentions. However subtlety was not his friend, and he was soon caught and transported to one of our more..secure facilities. I won't go into details but under one of the many test we preform on our..guests, he proved himself to have quite remarkable skills with guns and heavy arms. It was then he was transported to U.B.C.S (Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service) and sent on a 'special' mission to a little backwater town known as Racoon City". Alfred paused before a half smile appeared on his face, "He was assigned specialy to take out the remaining members of the Racoon city police departments STARS team". At this point a little gasp could be heard from Jill, it looked as if she was about to say something but then decided against it, Alfred continued, "However soon after arrival it was discovered a number of surviving members of the mansion incident were no longer within the town. At this point we believed they had got away and we would be unable to find them, that was until he came across you Miss Valentine. Orders were changed and instead it was ruled that he gain your trust and therefore be led to your counterparts and fellow survivors, Mister Redfield, and Miss Chambers". At this point Alfred paused for effect, to see the reaction as it played around the room, slowly he continued, "In his credit however he obviously felt something for you, Miss Valentine, for no sooner had you escaped from the city than he severed all ties with us. It appeared that he had decided to double cross us,..nobody does that. We soon found his weakness and managed to persuade him to tell us of your intentions on our empire.  
  
Carlos managed to find a voice through his tears as he cried out "You bombed one of our bases...you killed all those people", again he sank back into his rhythm of sobs and sniffles.  
  
"You have only yourself to blame, you knew exactly what you had let yourself in for. Anyway, not being a heartless corporation we allowed the tradement of guns and weapons for sufficent information and, on completion of his mission, a quantity of a minor virus so that his group would have whatever little supremicy they want in their little drug wars".  
  
"And that brings us up to the present, we knew you were coming here so we set up a little..suprise for you. Alfred grinned wickedly as his eyes passed over the room. Before anyone could react, Carlos once again began speaking "Where I lived it is not safe, people are raped and murdered on a daily basis..I thought that by joining Umbrella I could improve my peoples lives. I was prepared to do anything, kill anyone... until I met you Jill,..I'm so sorry". Instinctively he began to reach out for her, to comfort her and him, but Jill was having none of it.  
  
"Don't touch me you bastard", she yelled at him, her eyes remaining cold and unforgiving, "You don't get it do you? You lied to me, lied to us and your sorry?, you want forgiveness?", she questioned her voice slowly rising. "You don't understand, not at all. I, we, would have done anything for you, I would have gone anywhere with you. You think we'd have turned our backs on you had you told us?, You really don't know me at all, do you? We would have found a way around it, and failing that we would still have done as you asked, but we would have come prepared. But no, you never trusted me or any of us enough, your not the man I thought you were...You've runied it all", Jill cried as the tears began to catch up with her, "I loved you but now you've runied it all".  
  
***  
  
Not far away from the action that was currently going on, a machine was begining to make a beeping noise as the patient it was looking after once again began to pump her own blood and beat her own heat unaided. Alexia slowly began to breathe for herself as her brain once again came back online and back to the land of the living. Slowly she opened her eyes,...she was back. One thought struck her as she became conscious, a thought that had consumed her since she'd been defeated by Chris Redfield, all those months ago, "Brother....you failed me.."  
  
***  
  
a/n I know its a bit shorter than usual and theres not anything on C/W but it is coming, I just had to fill out the plot a bit. Anyway anticipation is the best part of anything, or so I have been told, so be patient. I've got some ideas for chapter seven but I really need to know for certain who to pair up before I write it, so please tell me.  
  
P.s Even if you've nothing much to say please R/R just so I know that people have read the chapters before I write new ones. 


	7. Alexia's Anger

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Okay people I've finally decided where my story is heading. HazordusRaptor, thanks for the little push in the right direction, I needed it. I've decided that as this is a C/W fic I must remain true to my roots and concentrate on them really sort of exclusively. However not being one to dissapoint I have also decided that, pending this fic finishing and going down well, I may do other fics on what exactly happened to the other characters after the separation i.e storylines on how they escaped,  
  
So people I hope that's going to keep you happy, at least for now. For C/W to finally be thrown together I'm going to have use this chapter to accomplish exactly that...so be patient and don't complain.  
  
Also in other news my fic has finally been up for a week (however by the time I post this it will be a day over) and it has rather suprised me just how many reviews I've got, and I've realised with shock that I've actualy got people to keep happy. P.S This is my first fic so remember, if I screw up I'm allowed to, okay?  
  
Note- "Denotes speach  
  
*Denotes thoughts  
  
Chapter Seven: Alexia's Anger  
  
Alexias blue eyes fluttered open as the world outside of them once again came into view. She breathed slowly within the chamber as the need for air became neccessary. She spent the first few moments of her new lease of life teaching herself exactly how to breathe, talk and move, things which the body had forgotten in its long absence of her. As she became more used to being back in the living world she began to take notice of her surroundings. Firstly she noticed the room, white, bleached and clinicaly. And also as she became more concsious she felt past memories and feelings come back to her, slowly as if needing time to sink back in. For a small moment she was completely calm and at ease, like a child without a single worry in the world, as she once again began to enjoy the gift of life. But that was only for a moment and within a split second the complete Alexia returned back to her body and mind, and with that the anger was unleashed.  
  
Deeply embedded inside her she could feel the knowledge that had hurt her most of all, her brother had failed her. She didn't know exactly why she knew it, but she did and all she felt was rage for it. Deep, cold anger she could feel, rooted right in the depths of her soul. She neither questioned nor ignored it, the instinct was far too great. *It had been his fault*, a voice told her, *his fault she'd failed, and he'd be the one to pay for it all*. Prehaps crazed from the effects of the virus or just plain insane she was, as she began deciding her loving brothers fate. Even now, so soon after the repair of her body, she could feel her power coming back. She could feel it rising within her, poised and ready to strike, she was ready.  
  
With a scream of pure rage she pounded at the solid glass, breaking it in one strike as her hand made contact with it. It shattered into thousands of pieces as it rained all over the floor tiles. Then, like a wounded animal, she leapt for the door oblivious to all but her anger.  
  
She knew exactly where she was going as she stumbled along the corridor, blind with fury. The base layout was somehow firmly planted within her mind, along with each and every room and item within it. She knew the room she was looking for when she found it, something just clicked in her now warped mind. *Room 29, WR, exactly what brother needs*. She smiled as she walked into the large room and again as she saw what she was loking for inside a case at the side of the room. *Not too powerful, not enough to kill him, thats for later*. Slowly she picked up the small object, playing it around in her fingers. *Just enough for it to start* she thought happily as she walked away. She planned on putting on a show for him, one to bring the house, or rather base, down quiet literaly. However the actual killing of her brother would be at the hands of the guests of honour, not her, at least not directly. She gave a brief cold laugh as she walked towards the biohazard prototype storage room..*Brother shall pay for his mistake*.  
  
***  
  
Back in the 'armary room' of the base Wesker was feeling a lot better. The short 'chat' he'd had with Chris had served to refuel his hate for him. *It was just a phase, a moment of weakness* he thought happily, *and now that he's here I can feel like my old self again. I can feel the old me, the real me (?) coming back. The hate, the detstment as I look at him..God it feels so good, I feel so alive..so me*. He wasn't even paying much attention to the conversation, just watching him...and ignoring her. *Maybe thats it*, he thought wildly, *Maybe the only reason I even looked at her was because it would hurt him, destroy him*. With those thoughts and in an effor to prove to himself that he indeed felt nothing for Claire he willed himself to look at her face. He risked a glance at her as she was observing the scene that was playing out before her. He looked at her face, at her hair, at her eyes, each time wishing not to feel anything however his hopes were in vain. As he looked at he did indeed feel something for her, but now he mistook this feeling for something else. *The only thing I feel for her is the desire to use her in order to get to him*, he thought trying to convince himself. However suddenly he was woken from his musings as heard Alfred shift his tone of voice.  
  
"Well really I have had quite enough of this. There is no point in you arguing about it as it is not going to make the slightist bit of difference, as none of you are going to leave this place alive", he laughed as the news took affect as it went around the room. "I mean none of you thought I would let you go, did you", he asked as his eyes darted around the room. "Especially you Mister Redfield, you damaged my dear beloved sister, you I want most of all. You will be the lucky one, the one to stay alive until she comes around..whilst your commrades perish", he began laughing.  
  
Chris interrupted him, the fear quiet clear upon his face, "You mean she's alive?", he asked in utter disbelief.  
  
Alfred then gave a long laugh, as if hearing a joke before he replied, "Oh yes, we Ashfords are like phoenix's or did you not know that?, We rise from the ashes stronger and even more determined to accomplish our will". "However", he continued, "the longer you live the more you learn Mister Redfield, and as you, along with all your 'friends', will soon be deceased there is little point in you asking me anything else or me telling you for that matter, do you not agree?". He glanced at Chris who had his gun cocked at him "I think not", Chris said firmly, never lowering his trusty Glock.  
  
"Tut, tut, tut" Alfred sighed as he spoke (i.e didn't sound) the words "Is your knowledge of the brainchild of Umbrella so limited? You could shoot at me at me and indeed it would hurt, but really kill me you would not. My body would slowly repair itself after all its part of its purpose. In comparrision though, a clean clear shot would kill you, and your friends too for that matter. However if you obey me then the longer you and your friends stand the chance of living", he smiled superiorly, "You really have no choice".  
  
With a look of pure defeat on his face Chris dropped his gun to the floor and motioned for the others to do the same. There was a small clang as each fell to the floor, then Alfred instructed "Albert pick those up and put them on the table over there", he indicated a small table on the far side of the room, "but keep the glock", he added. "I  
  
believe that I should reward you Mister Redfield for you ingenuity", he then added menacingly "Albert you know what to do". Weskers heart skipped a beat as he realised what Alfred had asked him to do. *I can do it*, he told himself, *I've done it to other people, I can do it to her, after all thats what she is, just another person*. Slowly he raised the gun towards the younger Redfield, but then paused, feeling for the first time something close to guilt, in regards to what he was about to do. "Do it" Alfred repeated slowly, "Shoot her and avenge your own feelings as well". However before anyone could react a thunderous voice rebounded around the facility.  
  
"WARNING. THE SECURITY IN THE BIOHAZARD PROTOTYPE STORAGE ROOM HAS BEEN BREACHED. EVACUATE IMMEDIATLY. REPEAT EVACUATE IMMEDIATLY. WARN-"  
  
"What the hell" Wesker muttered as the voice was cut short from the rooms speakers. From the look of it Alfred was just as much in the dark as everyone else. However they did not have long to wait for an answer as a separate electronic door opened in the far corner of the room.  
  
At first nobody within the room reconised the figure as she stepped into the room, that was until she stepped into a patch of light and Alexia was unveiled. A small gasp went up in the room as each set of eyes looked at her. Alfred was the first to recover from the shock. "My dear Alexia, your awak-", he was cut short by Alexia.  
  
"Brother you have failed me", her tone was unemotional and to the point, "and you know what happens to an Ashford who fails another. They are outcasted from the family and permently discontinued"  
  
Alfred turned white shakily he spoke, "But Alexia, I have brought him, I've brought all of them, for you"  
  
"Irrelevent brother. You know the rules. In reconition of your past service however I am prepared to give you a chance. Survive the test and you prove yourself as an Ashford and I will allow you to be reaccepted into the family and to live". "However", she continued, "as you have brought company you must be the sole survivor of the test"  
  
"But Alexia, how can I? I have no weapons" Alfred looked as pale as death himself as he spoke.  
  
"That is not my problem, that is yours, a true Ashford will have no probem. However I think it is wise to say our parting words now as it is unlikely that you will survive th eexperience. Good bye brother".  
  
With those words she tossed the small quantity of explosive powder into the middle of the room. Everyone within the room reacted with in a split second of it landing, running in all directions for cover, that was except for two people. A transfixed Alfred Ashford just stood gazing at Alexia, seemingly unaware of the explosive bag that was several feet from him. The other person was Claire, frozen in fear as she looked at Alexia, a woman she had history with. "Good bye brother", she repeated as she hurled the flame from her hand at the explosive bag.  
  
Then the room burst into flames, as flash and the deafening sound ripped through the room, and it began to collapse. Wesker who was as far away from the explosive as possible was first to see the masonary that was crumbling, on the brink of collapse, above the nearby Claire's head. Not caring and not thinking he ran towards her, using his superior speed an agility to do so before anyone else could. Wrapping his arms around her he began bringing her to the ground as both the ceiling and floor of the facility began to collapse inwards on all of the inhabitants of the room.  
  
"Good bye brother"  
  
***  
  
a/n Well thats chapter 7. It had a bit of the c/w storyline in it so don't complain. The next chapter sees them alone and together, so don't complain In regards to reviews, etc you know what to do 


	8. Just The Two Of Us

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Well I guess I'll start off with the standard thankyou note, so here goes. Thankyou for the reviews blahblahblah you really keep me going blahblahblah keep it up blahblahblah, need I say more?  
  
I know its been a few day since my last update but it's here now, so no complaining. Also can't a ceartain Rebecca obssessed reviewer be content with the fact that she's only had a minor role in this fic without requesting I kill her?..I guess not (truely disgusting!). Anyway, as well as writting this chapter I've also managed to work out a basic plot line for the rest of the fic so now I've just got to fill the stories out. As for the love scenes...they're coming!! Hopefully chapter eleven will see C/W getting a lot closer, but I make no promises as I'm prone to whole chapter lasting ideas. After the love scenes though this fic is far from over...there's SO much more to come so keep reading ( although that hardly encourages enthusiasm does it?)  
  
Note-  
  
" Denotes speech  
  
* Claire's thoughts  
  
^Wesker's thought  
  
Chapter Eight: Just The Two of Us  
  
There was silence, a deafaning silence, and darkness too, as inky and black as any night-time sky. The effects of the explosion had been truely devestating, rubble now littered one of the facilities underground corridors. The effects of the blast had also been hard hitting for the two people now lieing underneath the scattered debris, and it was a long time before either stirred from their unconcious states.  
  
It was suprisingly Claire who woke first, her head hurting and her body bruised but only slightly the worse for wear. She led there for a while, her eyes bunched, playing over her last memories, trying to remeber where she was to and why she was there. In the past she had learnt it was always best to do this before possibly launching yourself into a stituation. It didn't take long to remember exactly what had happened, not something like that. The pictures inside her mind of Alexia laughing quickly formed, as did the caving in of the room. They quickly set about dispersing the dull aching thud she could feel within her head.  
  
Slowly she forced a tired eyelid open and was then confronted by even darker blackness. It took a while for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before them, and it was then she noticed them. Two hands were snaked around her shoulders, two limp human hands. She wanted to scream but couldn't, her mouth was too dry, but she realised she had to get out of where she was, fast. Her breathing speed started rapidly fluctuating as she tried to pull herself up though the mass of weight on top of her, *I have to get out of this, I just have too*, she thougt anxiously.  
  
Although she had seen much death around her, it still hit her hard when she saw human death, and those arms were definetly human. In her haste to push the over lieing weight off of her, she gained more than a few cuts and grazes on her arms, but she didn't care. She breathed a huge sigh of relief as she finally saw light seep through the gaps in the rubble. It was dim but it was light she thought gratefully. With a renewed vigor she began hastily parting a way forwards for herself, all the time concentrating on getting herself out of there. *My God I'm so lucky I landed near the top*, she thought thankfully as the last of the blocks of metal and scrap were shifted. It was as she was pulling herself out of the debris that she felt it. A hand was grabbing at her leg, she panicked.  
  
Her heart began racing as she began kicking at the limb with her trainers, trying to pry it off of her leg, but the grip it had just tightened. It was then a thought struck her *Prehaps it's Chris, or one of the others...I've got to help them*. Quickly she replaced her leg with a hand she hoped for the other person to grab onto, it worked. *God their heavy* she thought as the hand began to shift its body upwards towards her, *Although it's probably due to all the scrap*. Slowly, very slowly, a second hand emerged from th small hole, and then finally the top of figures head. The figures usually blonde hair had been completely discolured by the smoke and dust that had swept over it during the explosion, for it now resembled charcoal. At first Claire didn't reconise the person, the hair was indistiguishable, it wasn't until she saw a pair of farmiliar sunglasses on their face that she finally realised who the person was. *Wesker...* she thought with total shock, and then when the shock set in she began debating whether she should leave him there, *It'd be what he deserved*. But these thoughts only lasted a few fleeting seconds before Claire made a real decision, one that she'd at least be able to live with. *I've got to help him, he is,..or was, no IS still alive. He may be evil but I'm not. Damm and to hell with the consequences, I've still got to help him, he's a person after all*. With that she proceeded to pull him out, and it was then as she was doing this that she saw the full extent of his injuries. Wounds seeped everywhere, on his left arm and leg, on his thighs, the largest being on his ribcage but the most worrying was on his right temple. In summary he was a bloodied mess. It took a while for him to reconise her, his focous was out. It was as she pulled the last of him out of the base's ruins that he eventually did. "Claire..." he muttered as he fell against her chest, falling once again into a state of unconciousness.  
  
Going into autopilot, Claire instantly began climbing off the rubble and started looking for a room for them to both rest in. It took a while, but eventually she found one.  
  
The room appeared to me a small medical room. There was a desk, a beside table lamp and chair, a bed and most importantly at the moment, a cupboard full of medical supplies. *Umbrella have a lot of rooms like this*, she thought wryly, *I take it a lot of accidents happen on a regular basis*. After checking the room out she then ran back to the corridor, her own injuries forgotten. Picking her way through the mass of scrap she once again made her way to Wesker. He was still lieing on top of the debris when she found him, completely dead to the world. Slowly she bent down to sit him up. Supporting him by putting her left arm around his left side and his right arm over her shoulder, she half dragged, half lifted him to the safe room. Now fully awake and feeling her strength returning, Claire realised actually how light Wesker was. He diidn't appear to be underweight or anything but was still terribly light for a man that size *Must be an effect of the virus* she thought.  
  
It took a long time to drag him to the bed, and Claire realised as she neared it that she was still rather weak from the fall. Never the less she began to dress and clean his wound, using what basic first aid knowledge she could recall. *If only Chris could see me now, his arch-enemy at my mercy* she though ironically, *I wonder if he'd do the same*. Once finished she began to feel extremely tired and exauhsted herself from her little escapade. Slowly and tiredly she sat down in a chair by the bedside. *I may be tired, and I may have just needlessly saved him, but their is no way that I am sharing a bed with Albert Wesker*, she thought sleepily as she tried to get comfortable in the wooden chair.  
  
***  
  
It was the dream again. They were dancing in a large room, prehaps a ballroom. The song was lively but also intimate, truely blissful. She smiled a smile only she could muster, seductive, lust filled, love filled..happy. He in turn pulled her closer to him, fufilled, content, in love. Their bodies as they met both vigourously radiated warmth, heat, passion...love for the other. Then there was the kiss. She lent in, he pulled her closer staring into her and their lips touched, like a dream it was perfect as it happened. But then also like a dream realisation dawned and the beautiful man before her eyes crumbled to dust which quickly rose and was scattered by a sudden fierce wind. The last she saw within the dust was her beloved's other form. A monster gazed at her from with in it before the air swept that picture too away. She broke down in tears as Steve Burnside once again was gone from her reach. *Steve...Why did you have to leave me, there was everthing for us, we'd been through so much..Why?..WHY STEVE?...WHY?  
  
***  
  
Claire woke from her dream/nightmare to be confronted by another man's face before her own, Wesker's. However his gaze was nothing like Steve's, it was cold and mocking. "Well, well what have we here?", he sneered, "Miss Redfield, also known as Claire. Although I guess I should thank you for the hospitality you've undoubtably provided me, I won;t as we'd both know that I would be lieing. ^What happened? Why is she still here? Why did she help me?^.  
  
"Wesker", Claire growled. *What the hell is he playing at?*  
  
"In one, you are indeed as smart as you are beautiful ^Why did I say that?^, your definantly a Redfield.  
  
"Wesker I'm not in a mood to play your sarcasm game, and your not in a position too either, she answered nodding at his bandages.  
  
"Why because of these?" he asked in mock sadness, "I thought you would have guessed at least by now, especially after the recent events, that one of the effects of the virus is rapid body repair" he said patronisingly as he removed the bandages from his body to show clear undamaged skin, no scar, wound or indentation at all present.  
  
*What the bloody hell is going on here?*  
  
He continued, "And also I must inform you that you are now under my command, a prisnor if you like. I wouldn't try to resist, you'll only make it harder on yourself. Now get up off the chair and come with me. I for one plan to get out of this hell hole before it is blown sky high"  
  
***  
  
Well that was chapter eight. The plot once again thickens even more (it's in danger of going solid at present). As for the next chapters I've got ideas, particularly for a certian one that I'm half tempted to write now, but I'll wait. R/R, comment, give me your views, ideas, etc. The more reviews that I get, the quicker I write (my ego is rather dissapointingly that cheap). Keep me informed, especially if you have read but haven't reviewed yet, I really need to hear from you. Well I guess I better start crackin on chapter 9 then..see ya. 


	9. Hate, Pity And Weakness

Resident Evil  
  
Weskers Desire  
  
Title:Weskers Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Okay another chapter finally loaded up, I know its been a while (although its only been just other a week). Although I do like to update regularly know I'm back at school I can't as often. However to compensate I've made this chapter longer so don't complain. Thanks for the reviews, once again they've been wonderful and inspirational (I've got passed the page mark (i.e 25 reviews, *yay*). I'm also going to try and R/R the authors who have reviewed my story as I only think it's fair, but anyway on with the story.  
  
Chapter Nine: Hate, Pity And Weakness  
  
***  
  
"What do you mean?" Claire said, looking bewildered as she spoke.  
  
"Exactly what I said", Wesker replied slowly, smiling as he did so. "This place is going to be blown halfway to hell by the time I'm through with it". He looked directly at her and then added, "I never, ever take on a mission without a little insurance policy to guarantee my survival Claire, you should know that by now, it's how come after all that I'm still alive". He then nodded at the door of the small room, indicating for her to get up off of the chair she was sat in and follow him. However Claire just sat there shaking her own head. "I don't believe this" she said with a disgusted look on her face, "Don't you trust anyone Wesker, ever? What a sad existence you must live in".  
  
"And you would trust one of those crazed twins?" he said with a smirk on  
  
his lips.  
  
"You know what I'm talking about Wesker", she spat the words out as if poison as she looked at him.  
  
"Oh your talking about the mansion incident again?. You know you really shouldn't be living in the past Claire. And it has nothing to do with you anyway". He replied, a smile creeping back upon on his lips. ^She's so beautiful^ he thought as he gazed at her.  
  
"It has everything to do with me, it was my brother, it was your team- mates. They trusted you and you led them to their deaths, how could you?. I'd rather die the most painful death possible than become like you, to do what you have done". *How can he be so heartless? How can he have no remorse for what he has done to others?*  
  
"You know Claire flattery will get you everywhere" Wesker said with a superior smile on his face, "And at least I will live on instead of fighting a war I can't even hope to win, like you are. Your nothing more than a group of vigilantes who believe they can make a difference. And don't give me any of that self-righteous shit either, you can't stop Umbrella, you can't make a difference".  
  
"You think I care about odds Wesker? I don't, I fight for what I believe in. At least I'm not a quitter like you, you took the easy way out after all. And at least when I do die I will do so with honour not as a coward like you" Claire gave him a cold, dark stare as she spoke.  
  
"You and your pathetic code of honour" Wesker said laughing "That stuff belongs back in the middle ages not in the world of today". He paused and fixed his gaze on her, "You really don't get it do you? Everyone will turn their backs on you...everyone, no matter how moralistic and forth right they may be, each and every person has their price, fighting to protect others won't get you anywhere, it only leads to death" ^I should know after all, people can never be trusted, they only let you down^.  
  
"It's you who doesn't get it Wesker", Claire held the gaze as she spoke, "You of all people should know that when it comes down to it, Chris at least would never betray me, he'd die for me as I would for him". *He's wrong, he's wrong, he has to be wrong..doesn't he?...Otherwise what's the point in living?*.  
  
"Yes you two are very close, aren't you?" Wesker looked away for a second as his smile widened and he repeated "Very close".  
  
Claire instantly got what he was getting at. Quickly and instinctively she raised her hand to slap him with. However Wesker saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and, taking advantage of his increased reaction time, speed and agility, he put his own arm up to stop hers. Then anger taking once again over him, he pulled her up from the chair and pushed her on to the bed next to it. Holding her in place he said angrily "Don't even try it". ^God she looks so beautiful lying here. I could have her right now and she couldn't stop me. Perhaps it would be worth it after all it would devastate him, not to mention her*. Indeed a part of him did want to give into natures' most primal of instincts and have her right there and then as she was before him, helpless and at his mercy. Another part of him still wanted to kill her, after all she was Redfields' sister. But a small yet surprisingly powerful part of him couldn't, wouldn't do that. ^My sense of humanity's still there then^ he thought wistfully for a second, and then he rationalised. ^It's only because she's more useful alive than dead^, he told himself. "Now get up and follow me and don't you ever try that again. You may be able to take on those degenerate freaks (i.e zombies) but there is no way you can ever take me on, so don't bother".  
  
This time Claire complied with his demand and got up of the bed, but was far from phased by his outburst. "Why the hell do you still need me around Wesker?" she asked angrily.  
  
Wesker himself then froze for a moment before regaining his composure. ^Why do I want her around so much?^. "Claire if you weren't useful to me you'd be dead by now, you should know that's the way I work. The only reason I need you for is bargaining later".  
  
Claire echoed his last word, "Bargaining?", she said questioning him.  
  
"Of course Claire", he replied with one of his usual smiles, "I hate to admit it but Chris is one of the best I have ever seen. He's very likely to survive this ambush and your his weakness. Undoubtedly there will be a means of escape either in or around this base and there is a possibility your brother will get to it first, but he won't leave without you. And I plan on surviving Claire, that's what I am, a survivor. You will be my means of doing so, I will bargain your life for my escape. Does that answer your question?". He stopped for a second waiting for a response, he got none, so he continued "Now follow me". And this time Claire did indeed follow him out in to the corridors of the underground base, and also into the unknown.  
  
***  
  
Not far from the two, someone, or rather something, was beginning the hunt for its prey. Slowly it walked along the rooms of the plant looking, hunting, searching for the two. Its thoughts, feelings and emotions all by now had been eradicated and had instead been replaced by the intense detestment it felt for the pair. Within its mind eye, even now, it could see them, the pair and its names were the only thoughts present in its brain. "Redfield....Wesker", it rasped as it too walked along the facilities corridors. "Redfield....Wesker..."  
  
***  
  
As the two walked silently along the dim lit corridor Wesker was, as usual, deep in thought. ^I've just had the longest conversation that I can ever remember having during these past few years^ he thought reflectively, ^...but then again, how many years has it been?. I can't even begin to remember any other time that comes close. I mean I know we argued, but still, I've never talked with anyone so much, so passionately, usually nothing rouses me into a talking with anybody, ever. No matter how abusive or provoking they may be, usually I can't bare to give them the time of day, ...but not her. Why must it be with her though?..why is she so different? I shouldn't feel like this...I'm weak, pathetic really...but still, I feel...different when I'm with her^.  
  
Like Wesker Claire was also in thought but her thoughts were very different in comparison to his. *How the hell am I going to get out of here alive?* she wondered silently *Should I make a run for it? But then again how would I get away from him?, he's too strong. If I do get away though I have no chance of survival without him, after all I have no gun, no protection, nothing, and nobody to rely on...apart from him*. As they reached a set of stairs and began to descend them, she decided to speak to him and asked "How are we going to get out of here Wesker". *I hope to God he knows*  
  
"What no cutting remark?, no sarcasm? I'm disappointed Claire but oh well". He paused to look at her *Sarcasm, denial, it helps me keep people at arms length*. "If you must know Claire, first thing we will have to do is pick our way through these crumbling ruins and make our way down to the bottom of this place and then on into the sewers that are connected to it.  
  
"Why are the sewers connected to this place?, I thought Umbrella liked to keep themselves separate from the rest of the world", Claire questioned.  
  
"Oh look the sarcasm is back, what a surprise, it didn't take long", Wesker began, firstly dodging the question. ^There is only one way out now anyway, although it's bloody risky^. He continued "The sewers are directly connected to the beginning of the newer system that starts on the outskirts of the town. We will just follow it and exit there. Hopefully we, or at least I, will make our escape from there. That is how we're getting out of here Claire, is that okay with you?", he asked once again patronisingly. Claire got ready to speak back to Wesker but was interrupted by him "However after interference from that crazed bitch we can't be sure what is now running about down there now, or what was running down there before. After all you don't what those researchers disposed of down there, or how many"  
  
"So this place is just another place to house the Tyrant virus. Another place where you manufacture freaks of nature and play god for your pathetic sense of power". Claire looked at him once again with obvious disgust in her eyes, Wesker did his best to ignore the look.  
  
"You should know, if you'd done your research that is. This facilities purpose was to improve the Tyrant virus and work on effectively creating an ideal hybrid", Wesker said condescendingly.  
  
"You really do believe that the work you do is just that don't you? Your playing with people's lives here. Isn't the destruction you've caused so far not enough?" Claire once again began to lecture him on his principles.  
  
"Firstly Claire in case you haven't noticed, I don't run Umbrella. Secondly don't give me that moralistic bullshit" Wesker began his temper flaring slightly.  
  
"Bullshit?" Claire exclaimed "Is that all you think it is, bullshit?  
  
Ho-", but Claire was interrupted before she could finish by the smell that had struck her.  
  
She detected a faint smell or rather a stench in the air as she walked down the corridor, trying to find its source. Although the smell was faint it was sickeningly familiar to her and she already had an idea as to what it could be. *You don't ever forget a smell like that, God I hope I'm wrong*. It, as predicted, increased as she walked towards it, determined to find its source. It was when she rounded a corner at the end of the long corridor that she was dealt the full force of the now overpowering stench. The smell now became nauseating and Claire began to gag, and her head began to spin slightly but she forced herself to overcome it. This was because the floor before her was densely littered with bodies of all shapes and sizes. All had been eaten to varying degrees, limbs were also strewn across the floor as well as heads, bones and the like. It was impossible to make out the faces of most of the dead, which was perhaps a relief as at least their facial expressions could not be seen. But the worst was yet to come as there before them in the centre of the carnage was one of the biohazard room escapees intently watching them.  
  
The beast stood at over 9 feet tall and was of a rather large build. It appeared to be a rather usual Tyrant, after all it had similar attributes. One difference was an apparent elongated tentacle which protruded from its chest. However the main difference was the face of the beast, which had been vastly different than to those of previous Tyrants. Its face was obviously human, albeit recognisable as a definite, once human face. Although the virus had vastly mutated it, it still remain oddly and eerily the face of a man. However what alarmed Claire the most was the eyes of the beast. The colour was a yellow/black pigment but it was the way they shone that alarmed both of the pair as there was a glimmer of intelligence within them, something that the T virus usually destroyed.  
  
The way it starred at them with eyes that transcended words, transfixed Claire as she stood, clearly it had the upper hand. However Wesker clearly knew better than her "Claire get the hell out of its way" he shouted to her, but it was already too late. In one swift fluid movement the creature ran at her, its claw like arms raised. It charged into her, swiping one of its arms at her as it knocked her to the ground. Claire had not been unable to react in time and so had not been able to shield herself and therefore her chest and arms had taken the blow. As she crumpled to the ground she cried out in pain as the claw marks began to yield blood. The monster though wasn't finished yet, as it suddenly began to make use of its tentacle. In a lightening quick movement it attached its tentacle to Claire's left arm where the wounds were the most severe. There was a squelching sound as the tentacle suckers made contact with Claire's arm. *I'm going to die* Claire thought as she dizzily watched the monster before her *It's going to leech my blood and kill me*. However the mutant did not begin to suck blood with the underside of its tentacle, quite the reverse in fact. Claire felt her whole body burn as it injected something into her bloodstream, she cried out in pain as she felt it.  
  
It was at this point that Wesker reacted to the scene before him. Usually he would have run from a scene like this, but something this time stopped him,...her. With one furious cry he was upon the beast making use of his own enchanted physical properties. The whole of the beasts body shock as Wesker dealt it a series of rapid kicks and blows.  
  
It appeared first of all that Wesker had the upper hand in the fight, however the monster quickly saw to it that this did not last long. With a primal cry of rage it quickly turned to face its adversary, and as it did so raised its mutated arm to strike. Wesker knew what was going to happen but even so he was unable to react in time before the Tyrant brought its arm down to inflict the blow. This time instead of being merely clawed, Wesker felt the beast puncture the skin of his lower left side as it drove its claws into him. The monster was going to make him suffer for his actions, and Wesker knew it. He tried to struggle as the beast retracted its claws from him but was unable to do so, all he felt was numbness. ^Shit^, he thought frantically, his mind being the only thing to work right now, ^That freak must've sedated me^. Indeed he had been injected, via the sharp claws, with a power sedatant and the Tyrant took full advantage of the situation as it slowly got ready to use its tentacle on a new victim. All Wesker could do was watch as the feeler drove home. It attached itself to his side and once again injected poison into a body, something Wesker was unprepared for. His mind screamed in pain as the toxin entered him, he had wanted to cry out loud but was unable to, the sedative was to strong. However although he was numb, it didn't lessen the pain of experience at all, in fact it just made it worse as he was unable to vent his feelings. His whole body burned as the creature continued to pump the liquid into him, his mind was full of pain.  
  
Once the tentacle had performed its function the creature removed it from Wesker's body, a feat that again caused great pain to Wesker as it was torn roughly from his skin. Like Claire he too began contemplating his fate. ^I'm going to die, and so is she* he thought groggily as the Tyrant began its assault once more. Slowly it raised its other arm which, like other parts of him, seemed to be human, to his throat. As the hand tightly clasped around his neck Wesker felt himself being lifted off the ground. Slowly, as the life was being taken out of him, he forced his eyes to focus on the monster before him, to see his last moments of life. It was as he was reaching the brink of unconsciousness that his eyes made contact with those others before him and the Tyrant dealt him a direct look that said it all. The eyes said what the beast could not, that he was stronger, more powerful, better than him and that Wesker was inferior to him. Suddenly as Wesker was about to pass out the beast decided to let go of him and he fell to the floor fighting for all the air he could get. Even more surprisingly the beast apparently had lost interest with Wesker and turned away. The Tyrant gave Wesker one last look before he left, one that Wesker knew was saying to him "I've let you live and I'll choose when you die. Your alive because I say so, your my prey I'm going to have my fun before I kill you".  
  
***  
  
a/n Chapter nine done, how many to go? I've introduced the Tyrant as firstly now it is going to cause C/W to spend more time together (as they're injured), and as he is going to play an important part later. I've got what I hope will be a great chapter coming sometime after the love sequence (which incidentally is coming). But I won't give anything away. R/R comments and ideas especially welcome. 


	10. Screw Instinct

Resident Evil  
  
Wesker's Desire  
  
Title:Wesker's Desire  
  
Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan)  
  
Email: fan_fic_writer_uk@yahoo.co.uk  
  
Language: English  
  
Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own any of the resident evil (although as much as I'd like to), Capcom (and probably a few other companies) do.  
  
a/n Okay Chapter Ten is here!! Not much to say really other than I'm really really surprised how many reviews this fic is getting (It hasn't even been up for quite a month yet by the way). Oh yeah and I wrote a new fic (How Can I Live Without You Steve) it's quite depressing and sad but you can check it out if you want to. I was also thinking of doing a fic called 'Learning To Live Without Steve' which would be an alternate ending to it and it would appeal to C/L fans (let's just say the ending was not very happy, but then again that depends on your perspective). And in answer to the review by Amy Rummi, yes it was deliberate (I've given him qualities that Claire was attracted to in Steve, although in Wesker they're of course much more complex and deeply buried of course, but once she gets to know him, it'll attract her to him)  
  
Anyway on with the fic,  
  
Chapter Ten: Screw Instinct  
  
***  
  
...Silence, it echoed around the corpse filled room as the Tyrant walked slowly and steadily from it, however it was far from comforting to its occupants, or rather the conscious of the two. Wesker lay on the cold metallic floor groaning, the pain was fast becoming apparent and he was debating in his mind whether or not just to collapse right there and then. His body desperately wanted him to, needed him to, and the thing was he knew that he could and that made it so much harder, after all he'd be fine, the virus that was already in his body would see to that. It would make sure his body would heal, and it would also destroy whatever was currently flowing inside of him, whatever had been injected into him, after all he was a Tyrant as well...but she was another matter. She would die from her injuries alone, that much was obvious. ^Why should I help her? It's not my fault she's weak^ one part of his mind loudly and angrily asked, but even then he knew the answer to his self imposed question. ^Because I want to^ a small, yet powerful voice spoke timidly from an equally small crevice of his mind. Instantly he regretted thinking it and scorned himself for doing so. ^I don't want to, I have to^, he told himself as he pulled himself slowly up from the floor, his body was burning like fire and his head aching as he did so. ^The only reason I'm helping her is because she's useful to me, that and the fact she aided me before, not that I needed it of course, and I always repay my debts^ he thought comfortingly trying to convince himself. He sighed as he dragged himself over towards her, ^Shit that thing's strong, very strong, but I'm stronger...or at least I will be next time^ he thought as he winced slightly in pain from his wounds. He was going to continue his arrogant speech but it was instantly forgotten as was his pain when he saw her. This was because Claire was a lot worse off than he had firstly imagined. Now he could see the full extent of her injuries he felt anger bubble up inside of him, he just couldn't help it. "He'll pay, they'll all pay for what they have done to you" he whispered quickly and quietly, he didn't even bother to scorn himself for what he said this time. He gazed at her where she lay, feelings of turmoil once again becoming apparent within him. Feelings of shame, regret and self-blame were the most abundant of these, Wesker however dismissed these as down to the obligation he felt to keep her alive, even now he refused to confront his own feelings or indeed admit he had any. Claire laid in a crumpled form before him as he began to mentally access her injuries.  
  
Although her face remained practically untouched and unscathed, aside from a small cut on her chin, her upper torso was another story all together. There were a series of criss-cross scratches along her chest and upper arms where the Tyrant had raked its long claws along them. There were also a number of more serious wounds that were leaking small amounts of warm red blood onto the tiled floor beneath where she laid. He also noticed her breathing in her unconscious state, weak and becoming increasingly erratic, ^Not a good sign^ Wesker reflected wryly, ^Not a good sign at all^. Slowly he knelt down towards her in order to perform a closer examination, ignoring the pain he felt as he did so. For a moment all thoughts of her welfare were gone from his mind as he observed the power of the monster, being a researcher and a Tyrant it was primary instinct after all. However he was brought quickly back to the matter at hand as he noticed that Claire was beginning to spasm slightly before him. ^I guess she can't have long left^ he thought as he looked at the sight in front of him. Now that he'd had a chance to rationalise and get over the initial shock he had felt he was beginning to have second doubts about whether or not to help her. ^She's of no use to you so leave her be^ one part of his mind informed him but even then he again began to change his mind. ^She's useful for bargaining...and I can't leave her like this^ he thought, a small amount of emotion showing through. ^But I've never had any worries of leaving someone to die before so why should I save her?...what makes her so different?^ he thought, wrestling with his conscience. Like a game of mental ping-pong within his head he began arguing with himself as he began trying to make a decision that would go completely against his nature. ^Do I want to her alive?^ he finally asked himself, it was an ultimate decisive question...and it was then he knew, "Screw instinct", he muttered.  
  
***  
  
Elsewhere within the ruins of the facility another soul was stirring from their unconscious slumber. With a low moan and sigh, a dropping eyelid was forced open and a red bleary eye observed the world before it. The man laid there for a moment in the semi darkness, adjusting to the real world. Within an instant memories of what had happened in the pervious hours flashed before his eyes. With a cry of pure rage he launched himself from where he laid, pausing only to push back a stray strand of now blackened blonde hair from his eyes . "I'll regain your trust Alexia", Alfred Ashford said in almost a whisper as he dusted himself off "My love, I'll prove myself to you, or else I'll die trying".  
  
***  
  
The room didn't take long to reach, but to Wesker it felt like an eternity had passed as his now shaking hand wrapped around the polished door handle. "I guess that monster was stronger than I thought" he said slowly, his thoughts beginning to become muddled ^I need a rest, but I guess I best take care of her first^. He half walked, half stumbled into the dreary room, Claire feeling like a dead weight over the shoulder she was precariously balanced over. Hurriedly he shuffled towards the army style bed, falling onto it in his haste to do so. He lay there for sometime on the bed, his eyes closed, taking in the release that only rest can offer. ^I could lie here forever^ he thought sleepily, only really half awake, however it wasn't long before he was reminded he had other matters to attend to. Lazily he batted an eyelid open to look around the room he was currently resting in, glancing down at his hand as he did so and this quickly jolted him wide awake. This was because his hands were stained with bright red blood, Claire's blood. Realisation dawned on him as to how badly Claire was injured. His body ached as he pulled himself off from where he rested lying on top of her slightly. Dizzily he began to walk around the small room, his head spinning from the affects of the poison that was currently attacking his body. His vision impaired, he began to feel around the room, searching for the bandages and medicine Claire so desperately needed. Fighting his own urge to go and lie back on the bed, he eventually found a small quantity of what he was looking for in one of the cabinets. ^Look like someone got here before me, or Umbrella are making more cutbacks^, he half joked despite the pain he was currently feeling. He tried to read the medicine bottles before him but all he got was a swirling vortex of words and letters It was fortunate that he was able to tell medicines by their colours (Umbrella made them very distinctive to avoid confusion). So although it took a while, he finally located the serum, a rich shade of amber. By now the pain in his body had become almost unbearable, and each step felt like it would be his last. On more than once occasion he regretted the decision he had made, ^Fuck, why did I have to help her, it's killing me, maybe I should just leave her, I mean it's not worth this amount of pain...is it?^, but still he continued, ignoring his own pain as he did so. By now the pain was so great he was practically on his hands and knees crawling towards the bed. In one hand he clutched the bottle of serum, in the other a bundle of bandages and the like. Upon reaching the bed he noticed that the spasms Claire was experiencing were becoming increasingly violent and, he noticed with shock, her eyes were slightly open. Instantly without questioning his actions he dropped the bandages he was carrying and pulled an arm around her neck in order to prop her up, and softly but in a voice that was increasingly rising he called "Claire can you hear me?...Claire?...answer me...Claire?... CLAIRE?". All he got in reply were eyes that were rolling back and forth in her head. It went without saying that she'd die within the next few minutes unless she got some help.  
  
Not thinking entirely straight he began to pull the cap containing the Umbrella logo off of the serum bottle, some of the liquid splashing on the dusty floor below. Taking advantage of her semi consciousness state he slowly brought the serum to her lips, gently forcing them open with the head of the bottle. "Drink this" he both demanded and requested as he tipped the bottle slightly upwards allowing a small amount to trickle out of the bottle neck. Even though he gave her small amounts at a time much of it was rejected and a lot of the serum ran down from the left corner of her lip instead of where it was intended to go. However a small percentage was drunk and Wesker realised, allowing a small amount of joy to show through (although it was hardly noticeable), that it was having an affect. Slowly the jerky movements of Claire's body lessened and her breathing began to return to a normal rate. Wesker let a small amount of relief to pass through him as it became apparent that Claire had drunk enough serum to combat the virus, at least for now. The relief didn't last long however as it became clear that Claire's wounds also needed seeing to. It also didn't help matters that new, yet increasingly familiar feelings, of intense pain and hurt were fast returning to his body. With another small cry of pain he shifted his position in order to reach the discarded bandages that lay on the floor below.  
  
The task of bandaging Claire up was a difficult one. The virus made it incredibly difficult to focus on the job at hand as Wesker had both restricted vision and his own pain to contend with. More than once he had to re-bandage parts that he had failed to wrap correctly. Due to his current state it also didn't register what he was doing as he removed Claire's top in order to bandage the wounds on her torso, all he was currently interested in was tending to her wounds. The bandage wraps themselves were far from perfect but it was perhaps the best that could be expected. ^Anyway^, Wesker reflected, ^At least the bleeding's stopped^. And indeed all of the most serious wounds had been bandaged, and most of the minor wounds blood flow had stopped anyway.  
  
By now after taking care of Claire Wesker's own pain had become truly unbearable. Huge jolts of pain passed through his body and the whole of it ached, causing him to writhe somewhat in agony. Perhaps if the pain hadn't been so great Wesker wouldn't have slept in that bed that night, perhaps he would have realised the impracticality of the situation, sharing a single bed with a Redfield. Perhaps he would have made a joke of it, he was sleeping with the enemy after all. Perhaps he would have remembered that he had a reputation to live up to as a cold heartless man. However none of those thoughts came into his weary and tired mind as he pulled himself closer to Claire in that bed that night, and perhaps, just perhaps, that was a good thing.  
  
***  
  
a/n Well that was Chapter 10 (obviously). Not much happened I know, but it is definitely leading somewhere in the next chapter. (just to give you a taster) 'Rivalries dissolve and *friendship* is formed in chapter eleven, Growing Closer' (I'm sure you can make a well informed guess as to what may happen). I think I may have made Wesker a little bit too nice in this chapter but don't worry soon he's going to become the Wesker we all know and hate (there's going to be a reason though). Also I think the writing style at the end of the fic was a bit unusual but oh well.  
  
Okay before I finish I thought I'd outline some fics I've considered doing either while I'm writing this one or after I have finished this one (incidentally this fic has got at least six or seven chapters left before it's finished). Please tell me what you think and if your interested in any of the ideas that I've thought up below.  
  
Sherry or Steve, Steve or Sherry-  
  
Claire is offered the chance to be with Steve again by a mysterious person. The cost? She has to hand over Sherry, the girl she has come to love like a daughter. Who is this person, what is their reasons for wanting Sherry and who will she chose?  
  
I'll Kill You Claire-  
  
A woman with a tie to Steve Burnside is convinced that Claire Redfield killed him and is determined to seek revenge. Why does she think this and will she learn the truth in time?  
  
Betrayed In More Ways Than One-  
  
Yaoi Alert!!(Yes I'll write both ways), just a little idea I had. Why is Chris so hurt with Albert Wesker's betrayal? (you can work out what I'm going to write, it's not hard). All his emotions that he thought he had gotten over are stirred back up when he receives a letter from the man he so violently hates. (I'm not sure if I'll actually put any sex in here, a bit novel for a C/W pairing don't you think?)  
  
Okay anyway back to this fic, I hope to post the next chapter of this fic in the next 7-10 days, so check back then.  
  
P.S I doubt Claire is going to be pleased when she finds out she's being sharing a bed with Wesker or that she's not even wearing a top ;)  
  
*** 


	11. Growing Closer

Category:Resident Evil Title:Wesker's Desire Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan) Email: fan_fic_writer_uk@yahoo.co.uk Language: English Rating: nc-17  
  
Note- I do NOT own resident evil (I'm *really* sorry to disappoint if you thought otherwise)  
  
Plot Note- Regretably due to the changing of FF.net's guidelines which I'm sure you've read I can no longer persue the nc-17 aspect of this fic. However as you will already know sex was never the main part of this fic, just a means to show how close the two became. So although I'm unhappy about it, the rules must be obeyed. This fic however will remain for as I have yet to get to the sex the changes it would make to the story aren't irreversible, indeed I can work around them by not include any graphic content on the two sleeping together. This is a blessing also as it means that this fic loses it's 'sleaze' image for being under the nc-17 list in the RE catagory. Once again I'm sorry and if you have a complaint I suggest you E-mail FF.net about it (I most likely shall). The new rating for this fic will be 'R', if you have an issue with that please E-mail me and tell me why.  
  
a/n Yep it's time again for another update (FINALLY!!). It's been a while (actually its been a LONG time to the least) I know but I've been busy with school and also, and this is the main reason for the long update, I've had some problems with this chapter and it's taken some time to work through them (although even now I'm still not entirely happy with it). I've realised that people have actually been waiting for an update through E- mails I have received, so once again particularly to them, I'm sorry about the slow update. Also I thought I'd take some time off from writing this story and try and expand into some new fics (hopefully you have/you'll check them out). If you want to check them out, of want some info on them feel free to check out my bio for updates. Anyway I'm quiet sure that you've had enough of waiting so on with the fic (that's if I've got any readers left)  
  
Chapter Eleven: Growing Closer  
  
***  
  
... Lies, love, passion, lust, sex, desire, intimacy.. can love, true love every form from these, like a rose into full bloom? Or is that this rose is forever destined to be crushed, broken, shredded, torn by the frigid winds that we cast upon it? Winds of doubt, jealousy, reality, distrust and plain human nature.  
  
Even if it does exist then is true love perfect love? Not very likely. Romeo and Juliet were the characters of the greatest love story ever told, but tragedy stalked both of them throughout their romance and didn't stop until it reached their very graves.  
  
No true love is a fragile, brittle and possibly even an evil thing. It does things to us that no other emotion can possibly hope to accomplish, maybe even surpassing the power of the deepest hate. It affects us in an utterly profound way, like nothing else can, like nothing else could, like nothing else would. And it's tainted, it seems only ever formed (or should that be realised) out of the miseries that pain, heartache and suffering bring to us.  
  
Either this a very cynical or a very true statement to make. For these two though love, it was ever to be love, would have to withstand all of the above and more to stand a mere hope of lasting longer than a moment of passion when cares of reality were briefly cast aside...  
  
***  
  
Time passed in the dim room of the ruins of the underground facility. It might have been hours or minutes, seconds or days, possibly even an eternity, time had become immeasurable for the two that laid within it. Speaking of them what a sight to behold. A faraway spectator watching may have remarked on the scene within the room as being likened to that of two lovers firmly locked in a tight, tender embrace, both led on their sides the male holding the female gently in his arms so that she was lent back into his, her body and his entwined, seemingly one. Indeed it was seemingly picture perfect, however on little more than closer inspection it would become apparent that this was not the case, in fact it was very different.  
  
On closer inspection you'd notice the perspiration that clung to each body, both drenching and bathing it in a film of cold, damp, sticky sweat. You'd notice their faces that periodically showed signs of the obvious distress and strain each was currently feeling. You'd notice (and almost be able to feel) the intense, powerful pain that struck and passed through each of them in lightning quick bursts, causing each to buckle and yield to its strength, pressure and virulence in a matter of seconds. You'd notice how each attack that the virus gave was steadily becoming stronger than the last and far, far more deadly. You'd notice how their temperatures rocketed and plummeted at alarming and almost unbelievable rates, one minute the skin of one felt like hell's fire, the next like burning cold ice. You'd notice their breathing, erratic, weak and shallow, each lung fighting for the precious air it so desperately needed. And you'd ultimately notice how (and on more than one occasion) it seemed due these factors that their bodies were about ready to give up on the situation they had mercilessly been flung into, slowly seizing up, surrendering, ready for the end. Then at last minute, how they were brought sharply back by some unknown force from that fateful brink, that edge where they seemed to hover in uncertainty. You'd notice how this was a very, very different situation, the room was full of pain not passion, willpower was keeping each one alive, not the love of the other.....at least at that time it was.  
  
The danger the two faced was immense, seemingly deadly, both were all too aware of the virus's affects, previous experience was evidence enough. However as time passed that danger was dramatically reduced, thankfully (?). The seemingly iron grip that the virus had as it raged within their very cells and tore at their souls gradually weakened as their bodies fought successfully against it. Living colour returned slowly to parts of each body in order to replace the deathly white pale that had formed too readily in its absence. Their chests began to rise in a steady, controlled rhythm and both the waves of convulsions and blinding pain that ran through each body slowly lessened as the danger unwillingly and grudgingly passed.  
  
Of course danger itself takes many forms and truly this was only the beginning of what they would both have to overcome, not just physically but mentally and of course particularly emotionally as well. What they stood to face would tear each of them apart although in very different ways (or perhaps it was only the way in which they faced it that was different). For a time though the problems remained simple and, in comparison, they were... until the series of events that were to take place in that room began and changed both their lives forever (and not necessarily for the better).  
  
***  
  
Perhaps somewhat unsurprisingly it was Wesker who woke first after recovering from the effects of the virus. It was almost certainly due to his Tyrant genetic make up that his body was the first to heal. Waking up was practically instant even with the events that he had recently endured, another advantage that the Tyrant virus brought. However although the body had healed the sharp, stabbing pain remained as if it had been intended by the bio-monster to serve as reminder of what had happened, and this soon became apparent as he shook off the last of the residual tiredness he was feeling. His mind was alert as well (a Tyrant after all often didn't have much time to think and make decisions.. that's is if they think at all and weren't driven purely by instinct) and thousands of thoughts cascaded into it within seconds. And of course undoubtedly the most predominant of these thoughts were of his own safety and welfare as he sought in his mind to remember what had happened. Well it only took less than a heartbeat to remember what had happened, that haunting face, those eyes, the pain, the fear.. he couldn't have forgotten if he'd tried, the image was forever engraved, forever etched within his mind. It didn't take much longer either to recall where he was or indeed who he was with, and his anxiety levels rose drastically as a result of this...although he didn't realise a the time the oddness of this, and wouldn't have admitted it to himself anyway. Forcing himself to focus his eyes which were more than slightly weary (not unlike the rest of his body) he looked at the girl he was holding in his arms. Watching her with eagle eyes he observed her, making sure that she was recovering and recuperating like himself. It was an unusual feeling for Wesker, to feel so.....protective, so concerned about another human being's life, and it was unsettling, it was something he wouldn't allow himself to acknowledge or indeed deal with, it was just too much.....and yet the feeling was still there.  
  
He watched her for a time, tracing the contours of her delicate face with his hidden eyes, taking in all of the beauty before them. One might eloquently (and quite truthfully) of called it being completely captivated by her, Wesker quite obviously would have argued to the absolute contrary. His face remained as emotionless as usual as he gazed upon her, offering no clue as to what he might feel for her. He pulled it off so effectively that it seemed that she could just as likely have been his worst enemy as much as his best friend. However something changed in the room, his icy cold exterior was undoubtedly betrayed when he spontaneously shifted his position within the bed, ever so slowly and skilfully whilst his eyes were still upon her, so that he was looking at her head on. It was as if he was driven, compelled to do what he did next. Almost tentatively he moved his face closer to hers, as if a mental struggle was going on with in him (as it probably was). He could fell her soft sweet breath touching his face, making the skin upon it prickle each time she exhaled. Although his eyes could not be seen, it just seemed that he was searching her with them. Searching her body, her mind and her soul with them, as if by looking at her they would be revealed to him. Suddenly a pang of emotion seemed to rip through the room and a kiss seemed immediate as his face was just inches from hers, practically a definite. Maybe it would have been if only he wasn't Albert Wesker, if only he could have done this, but he was who he was and so he couldn't. Suddenly he pulled back from her lips, as if slapped by some invisible person or force. Slapped into stopping himself from what he was about to do. Maybe it shocked him, worried him, scared him even, after all it was one of the things that left you when you became a tyrant, emotions that is (at least that was the idea). Whatever the reason he stopped himself from giving into the urges he felt. If he would have taken any action at that time would remain a mystery for the moment was lost because as soon as he stopped himself a wave of tiredness suddenly washed over him, mostly likely being a body reaction as it still needed to heal. His body gave his mind no time to reflect over his near actions and as he resumed his original position within the bed he had no chance to think about the kiss that almost was as he fell back into a long deep sleep.  
  
***  
  
Claire's wakening was much different than Wesker's. Weary, tired eyelids were gently forced open to reveal blue, azure eyes that shone brightly despite what the mind and body behind them had recently endured. However she woke, dazed and disorientated, her mind unsure of where she was or why she was there. Impairment of the mind was one of the effects of the virus causing regression of it into a zombie like state. However the serum had managed to combat this to a certain degree....but the mind still needed time. Time to adjust, time to recover, time to heal after it's prolonged slumber. Her mind at that point felt heavy and dense, like a thick haze, no more like a fog had descended upon it, covering it, clinging to it, choking it, not allowing it to think. And her body felt cold, numb and oddly detached from the rest of her, as if the two were completely separate.  
  
Thoughts, feelings and emotions were of course present although they were in a state of disarray and this was audibly confirmed when utterings of confusion, mummers of delusion and groans of unawareness could be heard, rebounding loudly around the previous silent room as she shifted her slow, tired body in the bed. Her body might have been slow and sluggish but her mind was completely alert, it always was (perhaps too alert at that moment for it was terrible hyper-active). And it was one single repetitive question that ran through it, parting the mental fog that clouded her mind as it went. *Where am I?, Where am I? Where am I-* and then she felt it, then she felt him.  
  
She could feel it, an icy weight that was nestled on her back, putting a small yet immediately noticeable amount of pressure upon it. This weight was feeling increasingly cold and artificial as the seconds passed, it just took her breath away. It was if it was metal, metal that was sucking, stealing, robbing her body heat from her for itself, as if- and then she saw them and really started to panic. A pair of arms were pulled around here lower chest holding her to the mass that led against her. Arms that looked unnaturally white, arms that looked too unreal to be human, which only left the fact that they must be dead. Without really thinking at all, at least not rationally, her body took over as her mind panicked and she instantly began furiously and anxiously beating against what had attached itself to her (with a remarkable amount of strength and power considering). This was quite plainly because with her mind still in a state of reduced awareness of what was going on, and it's thoughts incoherent, she actually believed that the thing attached to her was in fact a monster getting ready to deliver its fatal blow, so she struck out at it.  
  
As Claire's blows rained into him Wesker too woke again, albeit with a sudden start this time. He had no time to think, no time to listen to his human side (?)... and it showed when with a primal, instinctive cry that only served to increase and elevate Claire's own fears he brought one of his arms to grasp both of her own and another to her legs to cease her feverlent kicking and pry her from him (as by now each's limbs were wrapped and tangled around the others). It was only then as she was firmly held in one place that the last of the haze cleared for Claire and she realised who it was in fact that she had been attacking. "Wesker?", she both questioned and stated in a weak, croaky voice, "Wesker is that you?". Silence as the other too adjusted to the situation, and then the grip lessened as he replied somewhat rhetorically "Who else were you expecting?". It was all Claire could do to stop herself from laughing as it dawned on her what she had in fact done, attacking a Tyrant, attacking Wesker. However she willed herself not to, it would hardly be wise, she was lucky he hadn't killed her. Now fully awake the events of not so long ago began to flash and form once again in her mind and she turned from where she was resting on her side to her back, finally propping herself up to look around the room with an unspoken curiosity. Wesker taking the initiative told her flatly and to the point "When that thing attacked it knocked you unconscious and I brought you here.. understand?". Claire looked a bit bewildered as she quickly took in the inadequate information, questions already beginning to form. "But I was infected.. what about the monster, is it dead?.. And where's here?" the questions came out of her mouth as soon as she thought of them. "One you were, two no and three here is another room in this Goddamn place" Wesker replied systematically, then feeling the obvious need to elaborate told her "You were infected I treated you with some serum I found in this room, rather fortunate for you. The monster let us live, I don't know why, probably got distracted or something, else thought we were dead. And we're not very far from where it attacked us". The information was more sufficient this time but still not enough, Claire however decided that it would not do to push the issue further and decided to move on to other things. Here she was lying in a bed with her brothers' arch-nemesis, a dangerous, evil man. Hell Mr X of Racoon City was looking like a better and even a safer option, at least then you knew where you stood. With Wesker anything could happen in an instant, he was completely and utterly unpredictable, history was proof of that enough. He was worrying, disconcerting and everything about him was unnerving.. he was-  
  
*Wait a minute* part of her brain told her cutting into her thoughts like a knife (maybe it was the sensible part), *Your SHARING a bed with him, your sharing a bed with Albert Wesker? Albert Wesker the S.T.A.R.S betrayer? Albert Wesker the Tyrant? Albert Wesker a man who has killed countless men and woman in the past and would do the same to you without a moments hesitation?....Risk factor?*. Right away a part of Claire instantly insisted to her that she make one of usual facetious comments to him in regards to the absurdness of the situation. She almost did, it had practically become an automatic reflex to do so after all. However this time she stopped herself as it would hardly have been a wise move under the circumstances. To do so would have wrecked the oddly relaxed atmosphere that had settled in the room, one without the usual sarcastic comments and unfriendly jeers, so she for once ignored her feelings. *Anyway* she told herself,*It's kind of nice to lie her like this.......wait what the hell did I just say?*. She couldn't believe what she had said and she must have visibly shown her disgust because Wesker suddenly asked "Something wrong". She looked at him shocked for a moment and then grinned despite herself. "I didn't know you cared Wesker" she said with playful sarcasm *Did I just make a joke?...with him?*. Silence and then Wesker did something quite out of character, he chuckled. It might have been short and quiet but it was still a chuckle, not a dark, evil chuckle but a genuine almost friendly laugh, as if sharing a joke with a friend or work colleague. "Who says I do" he replied light-heartedly "Just trying to keep the art of conversation alive in here...and us along with it". "Strange Wesker I didn't see you as much of a talker, funny that" replied Claire with equal wit although her voice was strained with tiredness *What the hell is going on here?*.  
  
The room settled into a silence. Not a sharp uneasy silence that might have been expected previously but a gentle almost relaxed silence that filled the room slowly and quietly. Each made use of it, Wesker returned to his thoughts, and Claire sifted through hers, particularly those concerning the fate of the others, who she was growing increasingly anxious about. *God I hope they're alright.. no they must be, they're all fighters, if I survived then they've got to have.. I hope*. She gave herself small smile *I know Chris will be, I'm sure he's worrying more than I am, he always does.. I'm the little sister after all*. "He'll be alright you know" Weskers voice almost boomed into her thoughts "Chris was my best man after all, he's got some sense". Claire hurriedly turned around trying not to show her surprise, but clearly failing "How did you-" "Know? ..What can I say Claire your so predictable", Wesker said interrupting her as he spoke, "All you Redfields are". Claire had to strongly resist the urge to slap him, and it must have been visibly apparent to Wesker for he suddenly dropped the sarcasm that seemed almost permanent in his voice and said with complete seriousness "Look Claire you don't want me here, and I certainly don't want you here. However we both need each other to get out of here alive and we can't go on as we are. Neither of us has the strength or the stamina to argue at present, not after what happened and so I suggest we don't. What I'm suggesting Claire is a truce, just for now, just until we're out of here"  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile in another of the never-ending series of corridors the lone figure of Alfred Ashford could be seen stumbling blindly through it. Blood stained, covered and caked in both dirt and dust from the debris he barely recognisable as a member of the 'mighty' Ashford family. It was only anger which fuelled his struggle forward. Anger took the pain away, anger didn't make you think, anger kept him going. "They'll die, they'll all die, I won't be beaten. Alexia's will shall be done" he spoke in a barely audible voice, "My Queen will be appeased.. whatever it may take, no cost is too high for her".  
  
***  
  
a/n Well that's chapter 11. Personally I believe it's not as good as it should be, but that might be because I've changed it so much and only a go between chapter. Anyway about chapter 12, firstly I promise it will be up a LOT quicker than chapter 11 for obvious reasons. What do I plan for it? Well I think I'll concentrate on Claire's feelings as they really need to be explored and discovered by her. On a side note I've been planning this fic in terms of chapters. Don't hold me to it but I think I've got at least 7/8 chapters left to write...with plenty of angst and darkness to come. Update shall be SOON 


	12. Friendship and Potential

Category:Resident Evil Title:Wesker's Desire Author: fan_fic_writer_uk (Dan) Email: fan_fic_writer_uk@yahoo.co.uk Language: English Rating: R (grrr)  
  
Note- I don't own resident evil (like that needed saying)  
  
a/n Well I told you that the next update time would be sooner and it is. Well anyway because of the short(-er) update time there's not much to say for obvious reasons. Oh wait, yes there is *smirk* (as if I could forget). Due to FF.net's (grossly incompetent and unwise) decision to drop all nc-17 stories I have had to drop the 'love scene' from this fic. However if they still decide to go with this banning despite the petition (www.petitiononline.com) then I have come up with an idea. If you still wish to view the adult material then email me and if I get enough replies I will write it and just cut it from FF.net. Obviously knowing me the 'scene' won't just be sex but also include other stuff like dialogue and both C/W's thoughts and feelings so even if your not into nc-17 stuff you might still want to see it. I realise that some readers will find it adds to their enjoyment of this fic plus it will allow them to relate to later chapters better if they read a love (yep love not just sex) scene. Other readers may of course not want to take me up on this offer...your call. BTW email me....I'd *hate* to use the review system as a sort of message board. This email system also means that readers will have to actively request the content and if they don't then their enjoyment won't be impaired.  
  
Also in other news like wow I got a flame. Well what can I say as this girl didn't leave her email I can't tell her personally but if she'd read this whole fic (and I'm not convinced she did) she might have noticed that I haven't exactly structured it so as to have them bounding off into the sunset together....it's angst (dating rofl....the movies with Wesker). A follow up story isn't going to be 'The bride of Wesker' or 'Marrying a Tyrant'. Okay so I'm totally making fun of my flame and perhaps being slightly bitchy about it but I guess I just find it amusing and humour is a great way to deal with *rejection* (yeah I'm sobbing here).  
  
Anyway on with the fic (I seem to say that a lot)  
  
Chapter 12- *Friendship* and Potential  
  
***  
  
"A what?" Claire answered in complete disbelief, here was Albert Wesker, ALBERT WESKER, offering her friendship of a sort, FRIENDSHIP. "Exactly what I said, a truce, it's far from ideal or preferable I know but given the situation I believe it presents itself as a worthwhile option for the both of us". "This isn't a business deal Wesker, so don't make it sound like one" a pause, a sigh and then "If I do agree it'd just be an.... arrangement" Claire replied somewhat reluctantly. "Because that's so different" Wesker said with sarcasm yet his face remained completely serious, "Look Claire dress it up as whatever you want. I'm not any happier than you about it but it's going to make it much easier for me and possibly you to get out of here if I don't have to worry about you every two minutes". Claire sighed both inwardly and outwardly, "Fine Wesker I agree but don't you dare patronise me. I don't need you and if I remember rightly it was you who demanded my company. I'll suffice without you, I've survived against all odds before, this is hardly new to me". Wesker smirked "Oh yes I remember your the super strong, genetically advanced Tyrant and not just an injured human who has no hope of getting out of here alive and shouldn't even still be for that matter". Claire paused getting ready to say something and looked directly at him, her eyes seemingly defying the shades which covered his. In one breath she said "Then why am I Wesker? Why am I still alive?".  
  
And for that Wesker had no reply, there was no reason for her to still be here, still be alive. He could survive without her, he knew that and she knew that. He shook his head condescendingly as he composed himself and displayed one of his painted sly grins on his face as he said "Why do you think? Not only does it help to safe-guard my escape but when your brother finds out...I for one would like to be there, in fact I will be. He won't leave here without you unless he has confirmation of your death". It was lying of a sort but completely believable coming from the likes of Wesker. There was a lengthy pause and Claire asked curiously "Why do you hate him so much? I mean he has a reason for hating you after what you did but why do you hate him? You despised him before he even knew the real you, what you were capable of, why?". The question took Wesker completely by surprise, he didn't even know why he hated so much. All he knew was that he had a hell of a lot of embitterment and resentment and he hated Chris and that was who he directed it all at. "I don't need to justify myself to you, I have my own reasons, they are none of your concern" was the only reply that Claire got. "So you don't have a reason then?". "I have my reasons I just don't need to tell you them as I already said" Wesker said, anger entering his voice slightly. Claire paused again, then decisively as if she had been making up her mind about asking it said "Do you always hide your feelings on everything Wesker because you've definitely got them. Do you just have a problem in showing them?"  
  
Something changed in the room then, at the time it was unnoticeable but with hindsight it could easily be seen. It was impossible to exactly describe it or pinpoint what it was but something changed between the two. The hate lost it's edge, it wasn't as vile as before. The detestment became slightly more bearable. The distance between them shortened. All were still there like many of the other negative feelings but they all lessened somewhat. None had disappeared that was for sure but it was a start, and that meant potential.  
  
The girl was good, psychology class had really paid off for her, even if they were never completed. "...feelings are not something I pretend to have or know much about Claire, despite what you claim" Wesker said trying to keep on top of a conversation that was rapidly spiralling away from him. "You don't believe you have feelings Wesker?, your wrong and you know it. Your still human whether you choose to believe it or not. Your actions show that". "My actions? Hardly compassionate are they? Hardly those of a normal human? as you've already taken pleasure in telling me" "And your rivalry with Chris is that of a complete Tyrant? It's hardly in keeping with the Tyrant ethos. After all your emotionally involved with him and that's undoubtedly a human quality, not a beasts". Wesker said nothing, instead he let out a long laugh to himself. When he calmed down he asked her "Why do you feel the need to try and see the best in me? I'm not a nice person to say the least and I'll be the first to admit it. Your trying to find something that's not there, I suggest you stop, you'll be disappointed and this game is fast becoming tiring". Claire looked at him, ready to lecture him some more but instead let herself a grin "Worried as to what you might find out about yourself Wesker?" she said making a half-joke even she was shocked that she made. Wesker saw the opportunity that she was throwing him and this time decided to take it. ^It'll make things easier if I play along with her^ he mused, once again trying to reassure himself that his decisions were for the mission. "You should be more worried about what you'll find out about me if you push it, not my feelings...remember? I don't have any". The joke was weak, in fact both were and weak was an understatement for them, but they were important. Small important steps that would lead to much heartache and much sorrow, but these were their purpose and that was how it was.  
  
Both could feel it. The atmosphere in the room was changing and each knew it, but they couldn't stop it. Slowly they were letting down their guard down to the other although neither wanted to but it was fast becoming inevitable. The longer you spend with someone the harder it is to hide yourself and both were fast finding that out. The relationship between them was like a china store though, liable to come crashing down at any moment....a sly or misplaced sarcastic comment could all to easily be the cause.  
  
***  
  
You are strong, I am weak, Indeed I am but the humble ant to you my queen. I'll guard with my life although you need me not, And hope that one day I might deserve your love. I love you with my heart, I love you with my soul, You are in my prayers and my dreams are full of you. A second glance from you can make my heart soar, To hear you content is enough to make me want to die for you. My heart is yours, my life is yours, I'll follow in your shadow wherever you may go. I'll see to it no single tear comes to your eyes, For you are a Goddess my dear sister Alexia  
  
Alfred sang the verses in his standard giggly sing-songy sort of voice, tinged with the dementia that was an almost permanent part of him. He did this as he half-limped, half-walked along the long winding corridors, apparently not noticing the destruction all around him. Perhaps he couldn't see it or had chosen not to...prehaps he was to far gone mentally once again for noticing details. All he knew in that damaged body and mind of his was where he was going and what he'd do when he got there. Why was simple, as always... for the Ashford family name, for his family, for it's honour... for Alexia.  
  
***  
  
The two led as apart as could possibly be in the single bed, not moving an inch closer to the other, however emotionally they were starting to make some progress. It might not seem like much, but given the history between them, or rather him and her brother, it was remarkable. Claire had no idea what was going on between her and Wesker except she felt that most of the danger she faced from him had faded if not passed. For the first time since she had entered the building she could see a light at the end of the tunnel, she might get out of here. Wesker on the other hand was starting to get worried. He seriously didn't like the shift of power in the room. He could feel his own strength refusing to lend itself to him as he found it harder and harder to keep up his exterior and it's nature. It might not have been obvious to Claire, or to anyone else for that matter but Wesker was slipping, and once he slipped he'd find it near impossible to get back up. Anger and coldness were only working short term and Wesker was beginning to feel worn down, and his reserves were running low. Maybe it was because his body and mind were still weak that this was so, but it didn't matter why, it was happening and it was scary. A barrier can only be kept up for so long....nobody's is totally impregnable and it can be a confession of love or a just a pathetic joke that weakens it, were only all human if we can put them up around ourselves......each to his own.  
  
"So Wesker if we're going to do this whole truce thing and seeing we've got time on our hands, how about you answer a few questions I've got".....slippery slope.  
  
***  
  
a/n Okay that's it. I realise it's shorter but the stuff that happens in the chapter means that. Also some of you people haven't had to email me for me to be motivated into posting it so that's on the plus side...no complaining lol.  
  
Right hopefully chapter 13 will be the build-up to the most important part of this fic (well the most for now maybe....your view might change later on). Reviews as always loved and appreciated.  
  
Dan 


	13. Questions with More than Just Answers

Category: Resident Evil (I'm pretty sure you got that already)  
  
Title: Wesker's Desire  
  
Author: Dan  
  
Email: fan_fic_writer_uk@yahoo.co.uk  
  
OR  
  
fan_fic_writer_uk@msn.com  
  
OR  
  
IM me on either of the two  
  
Pairing: Wesker/Claire (then again that could easily be Claire/Wesker. they're both very dominating individuals.) Rating: R  
Disclaimer: (like you need one of these.) NO!!...I own nothing blah blah. I'm not the owner of RE, nor do I have any affiliation with Capcom .yadda yadda. I'm just a humble fan fiction writer who has a way too unhealthy interest in *wrong* pairings.  
  
A/n: Well updates here have been sparse and far in-between. Indeed that about summarises all my stories, but hopefully that will change. I have found new interest in this story and hopefully should be updating like I did in its infancy. The only problem I now encounter is the trouble of losing the style of character that I have created, due to any possible shift in my writing technique and mannerisms in the months between updates. If that has happened I do apologise, but I am hoping that won't be the case and that my style has matured (now that I am an ageing 16 year old beginning to enter his teenage twilight years.). I am hoping to actually finish this story off, although the end as I have said before is no-where in sight, well maybe *some-where*, we'll have to see where though; it could be closer than I'm presuming.  
  
Apologies in advance for any OOCness or shift in writing style  
  
Chapter 13: Questions with More than Just Answers  
  
***  
  
"Questions?" Wesker repeated echoing her, seemingly disinterested by the prospect of another interrogation session, although outside façades can be so deceptive. "That's what I said, there are some things that deserve going over" Claire replied, her voice becoming a tad icy due to Wesker's typical off-handed reaction to apparently any proposition, which angered her no end. "Forgive my reluctance, but why?" Wesker said, reacting to her coolness by all too easily matching it, "It is inevitable you want to go over your almost clinical obsession with 'The Past' yet again and I can't see any point in pursuing that avenue. The past is the past, what is done is done, as they say, you should learn to deal with it". Not for the first time the atmosphere in the room filled with tension from a metaphoric reservoir, if previous outburst were anything to go by, as Claire sought her reply.  
  
They were looking at each other as they spoke. It was truly an odd sort of eye contact; it really should have been unnerving for Claire, for Wesker had his shades to hide behind after all. Protected by a darkened lens, his eyes unable to be read on his expressionless face, she had no barrier of her own to combat them.but this was Claire Redfield. Her eyes began to smoulder once more as Wesker began once again to push all her right emotional buttons. "That's all it is? Happenings? Occurrences? Deeds? How can you be dismissive over it all?" her voice rose with her own distaste for the words. "I believe we've already had this conversation Claire" Wesker responded in traditional condescension. "You never gave me an answer, in fact you dodged one" Claire said practically snarling her response to him as she seethed with fury. "Why you need to know is beyond me Claire, you never really knew the people concerned, it has absolutely no bearing on you or your life in the slightest. Your experiences of Raccoon city were down to the deceased Mr. Birkin, not me" Wesker's voice began to rise a little as well, as the topic began to heat up.  
  
Claire looked ready to leap at the man, who with barely a few words could work her into such an emotional frenzy. It looked as if she was to set herself upon him again, complete with insults and profanities, but then her eye mood shifted drastically. Wesker was all set to make a snide remark on how at least she'd learnt, from her previous *tussles* with him, that her brute strength was never going to be a factor in any triumph she might have over him. He stopped though, the unspoken words applying uncomfortable pressure to his throat, when he saw exactly what mood her eyes had engaged. They took on a sudden far-away, thoughtful, lost gaze that, whilst it was also incredibly beautiful, he immediately found it disconcerting. Of course this in turn disgusted him because of the influence that he was letting her exert over him. Her gaze bore into him as she spoke carefully and slowly, whilst defying his cold shades, as if each word was of some terrible importance and somehow needed individual expression. "You don't know how wrong you are Wesker". She continued, "I've been affected as much as anyone by you and your betrayal to the S.T.A.R.S team, possibly. maybe. certainly, even more. I've had to watch my brother die little by little since you decided on that mansion mission in case you didn't know. Just because he was a survivor doesn't mean he's better off. He's had to live with the fact that only he and a few other colleagues made it out of there alive, and that guilt is slowly, unfairly killing him. Every day since then he's dedicated his life to avenge their deaths, to prevent them from being meaningless. He's lost his life, sacrificed it for the good of the dead.and sometimes I think I've lost him. I can't be sure that he's mine anymore, I used to know. I used to be able to say in all honesty that his first, his main priority was me, his sister. Now I can't, and it's all down to you. so you think that when I get the chance I'm not going to ask you why you've done this to me?" She continued before Wesker was able to respond, not that he actually had anything to say at that point. "It's not just Chris' hell though, it's mine too. I was there, I've witnessed it, witnessed all the horrors that Umbrella has in store for the world. Now I can barely remember my innocent but oh so naïve college days, that's an old life of mine, one that I've had to lose. I've seen so many zombies and lickers that they seem almost normal to me. Do you understand how sick that is a prospect, to be able to say that that is normal? I didn't ask for this hell, this torture, this misery but because of you I've been forced to live it and I think I deserve some sort of goddamn answer".  
  
Instantly after her somewhat lengthily monologue was over Claire regretted it, regretted revealing herself in anyway to the man beside her. She hadn't planned it, getting so emotional; neither did she know why she had. This man just seemed to be able to pull any emotion he chose to the surface at any time he wanted, whether he consciously knew that or not she did not know. There was a silence that hung over the room after that, as Claire mused and Wesker struggled with himself. He had felt something as Claire had spoke, something so strong he couldn't deny it (although he tried to twist the feeling mentally into something that wasn't totally outside his meagre palette of emotions). As she had spoken, and gradually got more emotional as she opened herself up more and more, he'd had the strange urge, the need, the want even, to at least touch her, if not to hold her. The feeling, he presumed, albeit grudgingly, would be somewhere on the compassion scale, although he had no idea as where to place it. On the other hand he also felt that he should be the one to dismiss her openness with his usual cold and brash nature, it was perhaps privately expected by both parties that he would. It would be so easy to do, just a cold, brash one-liner that would make her close up the small amount of emotion she was showing and allow things to return to how they *should* be. Just a moment of sarcasm would be enough, the words needn't be clever or witty, they needn't be anything spectacular, just enough to be deemed cruel. There would be no chance of her letting herself slip again and the distance between them could be kept suitable, comfortable and most importantly safe. But the ideal situation is rarely the desirable one, and judgement is especially open to being clouded in such instances.  
  
Wesker almost immediately made his decision. It might not have been the right one, but he never saw things through his usually rational, sensible, logical eyes when it came to her, that was becoming rather evident. "Your right" he spoke slowly, as if the words were alien to him, "I can't give you answers though". She said nothing as he paused and breathed deeply before continuing "There was no real reason why they had to die, they just got caught in the crossfire, like a lot of people. I'd been given a job, a mission, and, as callous as it might sound; in my line of work you soon lose the idea that a person is an individual, as opposed to an object. If you think of them having a character, a personality, anything that would make them a human being, then your not Umbrella material. Even colleagues are no different; you have to be ready to kill them in an instance in order to cover any tracks to Umbrella, or to deal with betrayal. There is no exemption, no exception, no granted immunity, anyone and everyone are liable to be stabbed in the back, be they lover or nemesis. And I've had years of experience with Umbrella and people that work in all too similar ways to how it does. So when I led those people into the mansion I can't say I felt any trace of emotion, sentiment or regret. That's the closest I can give you to an answer Claire, it might not be the one you wanted, but it's the truth, and that's what you said you want. I'm not entirely sure whether it is better that there was no personal reason for the deaths I've caused or the drawing of people like you into the shadow world of Umbrella and its rivals, but that's how it is".  
  
Any moral opinion that Claire had over what Wesker had told her, with an almost brutal honesty, remained unvoiced. When she did speak her voice was full of nothing but curiosity and, quite possibly, tinged with a suggestion of empathy. "You've never regretted anything you've done?" she spoke softly and slightly unevenly in pitch. The recipient of the question considered his next move thoughtfully; did he even want to enter this discussion with her? Opposite sides don't talk about things like regret and thus weakness, but then again where was the opposition? There was a truce being held, even if only barely, and the room was apparently in a state of neutrality, a vacuum from their normal relationship and attitude for the other, a haven if looked at in a certain way. "I think practically everyone feels some remorse, some sort of sorrow or, more likely, guilt in the beginning." Wesker finally said, avoiding any personal reply of his own, ".but it fades. Surely you can relate to some extent, you've killed countless zombies after all". "That's completely and entirely different, the person is already dead, and there is no pretence to keep up, because they are soulless creatures, devoid of any emotion or feeling". Claire replied automatically, she had somewhat foreseen that he might endeavour to approach her from that direction. "So relate how you feel when you kill a zombie to how I feel when I kill a *person*" Wesker just as quickly replied, making it clear to her that in his opinion there was no difference between the two.  
  
"So you'd kill me without a second hesitation?" the question came out of no- where, Claire unable to comprehend why she had dared ask him. She blushed slightly, an action that was more than a rarity for her; due to the personal element that was now in the conversation (although like Wesker she convinced herself that it was, at most, an exchange of information, a simple Q&A). Wesker had to suppress the smirk; no. it was an indisputable smile, which assaulted his impassive features as he took pleasure in seeing her blush, even if he hadn't caused it. That precarious, unhealthy interest in her delicate fluster was to prove to have dire consequences for Wesker though, as it took his usually razor-sharp focus away from the current question. It was with his vigilance crucially too lax and neglected, that Wesker made his response without a second, or really first, thought. "I could never kill *you* Claire" he spoke with gentle, undeniably truthful, honesty. His mind was too cloudy with the alluring task of trying to *see* the residue heat of her blush rather than pay a great deal of contemplation into his words, or rather unconscious declaration.  
  
It wasn't until he saw her face twist itself into an expression or pure, intense puzzlement that Wesker snapped out of his moment of weakness. He had to think, and fast.  
  
***  
  
A/n: Well another chapter finally written, I'm sure people gave up hope of an update long ago. Anyway, as always, any comments, views, criticisms, etc that you might have are greatly appreciated, be them via review, email or Instant Message.  
  
Dan 


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